Deliverence
by FancyLadySnackCakes
Summary: Only a matter of time before patience weighs out and the oomans get cozy - before they sacrifice their own, test their captive with meat that can fight back or make their prisoner docile. Ms. Bauler need worry - shes coming with him. Rated M sex/gore/lang
1. wheres the beef?

Here is my first Predator story. First chapter a go. Got the idea after reading the Predators: Captive comic book, purchased a bunch of them and their all awesome. Highly recommend them to all fans. Researched it all as best I could; terminology and what-not. Definitions are at the bottom. There will be graphic sex in this, as well as graphic decapitations, disembowelments, other acts of Yautja violence as one would expect, very M-Rated. You have been warned.

Don't own Predators (at all) nor Aliens.

So...here we go.

* * *

**_Date of access...01...22...2093...11:02pm..._**

**_Stasis at...99.6%_**

**_Authorization code..._**

**_-bauler001..._**

**_...authorization accepted._**

**_Proceed..._**

**_-command..._**

**_-System Diagnosis..._**

The screen blinked low, an underscore slashing across impatiently; erasing the authorization code and the past day-shifts requests (which weren't many). Thousands of malfunctions listed in the matter of .89 seconds; logged up at the top right hand corner in a series of white 8-bit texts. The center terminal made a small beep, followed by a series of clicks as it continued listing another thirteen problems in the soil composition, atmosphere, and fluidity levels. The swamp water was particularly off - holding eight of the thirteen problems - mainly related to the sediment quality.

Bauler adjusted the thin-rimmed glasses balancing on her nose, taking a thick drink of cold coffee with nothing short of a small twitch at the taste. Rodhiem Industries could afford everything it seemed, but they chose to skimp on thick coffee with more than 80g of caffeine per cup. It was a bitter bit of humor. Literally.

**_Request data list..._**

**_Authorization code..._**

**_-00011_**

The computer lagged, a problem that was increasing day by day. While the computer blinked - finding the proper requested information - Bauler lit up a processed cigarette, tasting more saturated chemicals than tobacco. The taste seeped onto her tongue like a mild poison. Bauler knew of a woman who grew a few tobacco plants in her dorm on the east side of the communal building; a punishable offensive in a contained building that regulated oxygen levels like commies, but the thought of handing over a good chunk of her paycheck for a double dozen fresh rolled smokes sounded pleasant, even if it was an expensive luxury.

**_Core insulation decreased by 3.8% in past 24hrs...bauler001_**

This abrupt diagnosis came with a high pitched ring, signaling its potential danger/damage at a level six on the twelve notch risk scale.

"Carl, you fat lazy shit."

With one nail bitten finger, Bauler pressed in 6233; the systems recovery code. It took 8.1 seconds to bring back up the Core to its acceptable 99.9% after imputing the proper chemical levels manually - switching two filters to output .2 more of one oxide mineral and .8 less of one clay compound. Leaching was back to optimal levels in 2 minutes, reacting nicely to the rest of the soil diagram. The computer to the close left showed readings at stable levels. This morning they'd been - on an average - down by 10%. The morning shift - Carl, that dumb sod - was destroying both their job security by letting the numbers fall so short. It wasn't like this job was difficult. Even a Tech School drop out could punch in codes and override software mistakes every few minutes as the grid got sloppy. It was only luck that the middle-aged idiot got this job, many others were waiting with tight lips to fix some one else's mistakes, and right now...they looked like her mistakes as much as his.

In four minutes and twenty five seconds of the readouts showing normal to good - the Stasis was flickering between 99.9% and 100% - not bad for the first thirty minutes of the night shift. Success was success, even if it felt cheapen by the shitty pay and poor lighting.

Oxygen in the tank was low and Nitrogen was high, at levels close to perfect. Humidity content was back up to a soppy 87% and the temperature was at the desirable thirty seven degrees Celsius. The pressure was the only thing disagreeable. Since the start of the job it'd always been high - dangerously high even - yet as far as she was told...it liked it that way - the walls containing it would disagree however...and so would everyone else if it got out.

Bauler bent each finger back, releasing each digit only after hearing that audible snap. It was safe to say a coffee break was in order. The past eleven months in front of the same three terminals, six days a week had proven that ten minutes away from the keyboard wouldn't ruin the last thirty minutes of recovery. Coffee was prudent to the job anyways, and without it, the systems would be at a greater risk than that of a little ten minute break.

"Sit tight chicks, mother-hen will be back soon."

There was always something ominous about working the night shift - in any job really - that made everything feel shadier than the day. Out here in the tundra, night and day had little difference, yet the nocturnal hours had a certain itchy feel to them. No matter how many months the world had been soaked in darkness your body still struggled between a schedule and utter chaos. The same look was on everyones face.

At least you shared something in common with everyone when you worked this shift; the same sense of accepted solitude that even those on the day shift refused to feel. When people passed each other in the corridors from eight at night to eight in the morning, a look was shared - and that look meant more than words. That look was passing between Bauler and a surveillance technician right now; the same guy who set up that camera in her workspace the other day. It didn't matter how many times she caught him on break, he never gave out his name.

Eyes met briefly, small smiles were formed, and then formalities were gone; silence except the clink of the coffee lip as it slid against a cup, pouring out liquid energy. He looked like a Dean, so she referred to him as such. Never once did he seem the slight bit offended. If anything the fake name was a stabilizer for the same question she'd been asking the past month, every time they caught one another.

"The cattle work this time, Dean?", the same question every time, and followed by...

"No.", the same answer every time.

Bauler arched a shoulder, pouring her own cup of water-downed coffee. Sometimes he never spoke more than that, just drank his coffee silently - watched her when she wasn't looking - until he needed to fill it up again, then he would nod and leave. It was a habit she had too. No sense in getting up twice when you could just fill up quickly and take one back to nurse for the next hour or so. They all needed coffee, even if they got a full eight hours of sleep during the day - it was something hardwired into the human brain to get fuzzy during this time of night.

Tonight, for the first time in four sporadic encounters he chose to add more to the 'No'.

"They say thats the last of the beef...last of the cheap stuff at any rate." She heard a lighter flick, followed by the smell of nicotine. Another smoke sounded good she determined as another sugar packet was dumped in her coffee. She needed the sugar high too tonight.

"What's next...tigers, bears, an elephant maybe?" It was a joke, but when she turned with her now cream-colored coffee 'Dean' mearly shrugged before taking a sip of his own, as if the Rodheim had already denounced those ideas earlier.

"Tigers would have been better than what their planning on using, at least on a moral note."

It wasn't ignorance that made her brain go to larger animals as opposed to the reality; it was more like remnants of some childhood innocence that kept her thoughts from 'real prey'. Somewhere she knew what the company would bring in next - where they would ship them in from was another question. Would they get muggers from the street, loose-lipped operatives, the homeless? or would they find something a little closer to home that wasn't keeping up to snuff with their job?

She drank some more coffee as the seconds went by, and it seemed silence was all 'Dean' needed to state the obvious. "It's people."

Bauler wasn't shocked. People died everyday, so what if they found some commies or wasters to feed to it? No skin off her nose, and the sick reality was that as long as it wasn't her she was fine with it...and by the look on 'Dean's' face he was in the same wave length of thinking. In this day in age, your job was your only life-line. Without a job you were as good as dead anyways...so if you were slacking off...maybe it was a mercy to just throw you in the tank as opposed to firing your ass.

"Getting one in tonight. No ones making a secret ops out of it, so don't be too shy if someone else mentions it...almost like they want everyone to know."

_Yea, those security cameras installed around the place yesterday makes sense now._

"Keep everyone in line maybe? Like 'you slack off, you're next in the tank' type of thing?" Another sip and the coffee went down like puss. It was only until she drained the cup that she realized her own words had made her ill. Just the thought of sending off your own employees sounded wrong, though it wouldn't be the first case in the past four years.

"You might be a bit too smart for crunchin' pass codes all day..."

The acid rose up in her throat, flowing just past her tongue - still, she could taste the coffee bile even as she poured another cup. "Yea...maybe." The conversation died then, as he topped his own cup off, raised it and left. It'd been over ten minutes, but something about the brief topic had her gut's bunching as if she needed to expel them from both ends.

In two more minutes something snapped, a sweat broke on her forehead and upper lip, but she was moving now. No more wasting time, no more long coffee breaks, and no more fixing day-shift Carl's fuckups. Knowing her luck they'd promote the lazy shit and feed her to the alien if the numbers read out wrong. They were downloaded and sent out at midnight, leaving it all to her in the end.

As soon as the cushion of the chair hit her ass - Bauler lit up a cigarette, sat the coffee on a half-dead heater and proceeded to bring up the .032% drop in the Stasis.

**_Stasis at...99.89%_**

**_Authorization code..._**

**_-bauler001_**

**_...authorization accepted._**

_It's not gonna be me. Thats for fucking sure._

_

* * *

_

It was all a clever ruse; clever for oomans at least. The air was electric, warm, soft and smelt enough like a jungle - not home, but a jungle all the same. It was impressive. He could sense the whispering cold outside, knew this jungle was far from what was around this prison. Their technology had improved since the last time the Elder had been here, his stories were little relevant now...

They were able to contained him it seemed...but not for long.

Patience was the game in this fake jungle, and patience was one of the many things he'd found easy on his _kv'var_. In a few more ooman months and days the time would come. They were already getting desperate for a reaction.

The dark forms behind the eight-inch plate glass were passing by more quickly as time went on. Even up in the trees he could sense they were nervous; a skill he didn't need his bio-mask to detect. Even through the glass barrier he could smell their ch'hkt-a.

More oomans were filtering behind the glass. Night must have fallen for them, for there were always more about when their ooman internal clocks told them night hours were ahead - it was a dimming mechanism to their primal instincts - darkness meant predators - yet however ignorant they were of the urge, they still gathered together for comfort, unknowingly or not. It was interesting to watch them, hear them even if he slowed his own heart beat. Without his bio-mask, translation - he thought - was near impossible, but it gave him something to focus his useless time on and sure enough he caught on quick enough. They liked to curse at one another, disrespect and spread foul lies in their freetime. Some were even stupid, more so than one should be trying to keep him where he was - this only made inevitable escape that much closer, and their idea of containment that much more laughable.

The last time he had come to from the yellow fumes, he'd found four more encased and poorly hidden _gkinmara_. The last set he'd found and destroyed easily, but these ones, he'd already decided to leave them for awhile. The recording devices would give them a sense of security once again; a weakness he could play off of if the first plan failed.

A constant spike and drop in the tang of the air at first had been irritating, but now the burn against the soft flesh of his mouth it caused was relishing. The slight pain kept him sharp enough to keep vigilant.

He'd been stripped of everything - all his _awu'asa_, weapons and both his _dah'kte_; taken from him by a _s'yuit-de_ as he lay drugged the first time. They had removed everything that made him a _kv'var-de_. Left him in this tropical hoax naked like a pup. Even his loincloth and rings had been stolen.

Despite his furry upon awakening, now - as he curled his claws around the bark of the tree - he once again found a small point of pleasure in the predicament. He was more agile now, just like when he'd finished his_ Chiva_. He'd been bare then too, nothing but his combi-stick for defense against the _Kainde Amedha_. In a way the sensation was candid. He would rip the oomans apart with his bare hands, naked as the day he was birthed. He'd take their leaders skull - the one that walked right up to the glass with the moon-shaped eyes. Bringing back his skull would be of the greatest pleasures.

A stream of humid mist traveled around the branches of the tree, pushing moisture against his damp mandibles and high spotted crest; beads of condensation dripped down into one of his eyes, burning lightly. The eight-foot predator closed his sunken eyes and savored it for the moment, pushing his tubular tongue out to lap at the thick _vayuh'ta_ - it swayed, curved and sucked up the bitter air greedily. They were watching - the sound of the _gkinmara_ adjusting its zoom and focus was loud with the lack of a jungles natural calls.

He kept his eyes closed; relaxed his mandibles, leaving them to twitch lightly along the sluggish cloud of moisture. Let them watch, let them study...for he was studying them as well, and soon...soon they wouldn't have eyes to watch him any longer.

* * *

**_Stasis...100%_**

With the terminals back on level Bauler tossed a half smoked cigarette into the burnt coffee to her right. It really wasn't safe to leave the keyboard for longer than 5 minutes max. Too many things could go wrong. If that thing in the tank decided to even do so much as piss in the swamp she needed to recalculate the chemical makeup to filter out the by-products of his waste and recharge the water with the proper rich conduits it was used to. As far as she knew it was either in the tree or in the water...both areas relied heavily on her constant surveillance. The thing couldn't just stay on level ground could it?

Levels continued to hold strong. Ten minutes went by, then twenty and thirty with no drop. Steady as a cock at full mast.

"Of course the system goes high flat now."

The heavy sealed pack of noodles was her safety net, set down in one lower shelf. 'Breakfast' was a no-no after how late she slept. The dry, processed starch was fine every now and then, but this would be the third time in a row. They were cheap, and dense...even with the added microwave non-biodegradable addition.

With a push of a button, the bottom of the bowl shaped packet started to heat up. The contents inside started to rumble and bubble as steam cooked the noodles from a separate water packet beside the microwave emitter.

Bauler crossed her arms, leaning back in her chair; which gave a ferocious squeak as the smell of salty noodles filled the small monitor room. The bowl of noodles changed colors when heated, from a light pink with yellow writing...to an off green that was suppose to be blue with purple text. Advertising now meant bright, shiny, and always changing to keep the customer interested.

Sometimes it seemed the only smart people were the ones doing the shit jobs, or perhaps, the smart ones just knew how to sell to the idiots...either way humanity was becoming gaudy and evil - still, when the noodles were done she ate them...even enjoying them on a more baser level.

Hunger was hunger and her belly expanded happily when all pound and a half of noodles were gone.

The numbers, levels, and bars read fine just as they had been before the attack on the noodles. She smoked another cigarette, enjoying once again how utterly unhealthy the day was already going. The compounds physician did say she needed to gain some weight - though the coffee and cigarettes didn't help like the fatty and salty noodles did.

Times like this made her crave a book, but knowing these terminals like she did, the readouts would shift as soon as she finished her first paragraph. They only ever seemed fine when she kept her eyes glued to the screens, it was like one big trickery. It was as if someone was fucking with her, making sure she spent every fucking second of her job watching the numbers for any change - so she did.

For the rest of her shift she sat there; noodles sitting in her belly for half of it and only moving into her bowls with the addition of the toxins from her cigarettes. Coffee was a luxury at this point; wanted but not had. As expected the numbers never changed but a hundredths of a fraction.

At midnight she logged the info for the past 24 hours, hers and Carls transmitting through the wires that dissapeared into the walls, traveling to the levels above where it would be recorded and someone else could judge the numbers for what they were. It all made her nervous, but still - as she watched - the numbers didn't change.

At the last thirty minutes of her shift she made a gamble; a coffee run. It was a bold test really to see if the numbers changed in her absence. They'd been fine all night, now at 7:32 am, carrying a fresh cup of coffee to the terminals, Bauler took a seat before turning to the screen. A long sip of coffee, a stretch of her legs and a shift in her chair took place before she gave the computers a lick of attention - what she found was as she suspected. The inkling hadn't done anything in the end, it was still odd, scary and shocking to see.

"Mother fucker..."

**Stasis at...91.8%**

The computer let out a screech again, this time the noise was longer and louder - it was a terrifying sound. On her shift never had a spike so low occurred, even Carl - the dumb fuck he was - never left her with a readout so low.

If anything she'd expected a 2% drop max while she was gone. Someone had to be fucking around with the grid for this to happen...

"...somthing, has to...be."

* * *

"Fuck!"

"Again..?"

"Just goes on the fritz for no reason...new systems too. I mean this has to be the third time tonight, at least." Observation room went quiet again. 'Dean' pinched the bridge of his nose, monitoring the cameras which were focusing on all corners of the tank, two arial views and six more burrowed into the trunks of four trees - they all went black. Five out of the twelve came back on, followed by two more of the arial. One minutes later the rest fuzzed to life, switching between infrared and night vision, but never normal optics.

"Something is seriously fucked with these things." 'Dean' mashed the reboot buttons, watching the screens go black for two seconds before coming backup as they were minutes ago. The alien was where it had been before, backlighted by the glowing swamp bog. It's head turned softly, mandibles flaring in the darkness. It's most recent kill's skull was cradled in it's claws, the arm elongated on a crouched knee.

'Dean' grimaced, turning in his chair from the screens just as the alien started to turn the bison skull in his long fingers. It was enough to make him look away. Soon it'd be a human skull perching in that monsters hand.

"I wouldn't worry about it Julian, ain't gonna kill the freak to have a few minutes of privacy..."

"That's an ignorant load you just spewed Maile, real ignorant."

Maile shrugged, taking a sip of his coffee as he turned the page of his Honolulu surfers catalog. The man didn't care, just kept reading, ignoring the vitals to his left as they beeped softly with the aliens heart beat. Even Julian could tell the vitals had been irregular as of late; a slowing pulse that seemed to correspond with their conversations.

Through the thick glass of the hanger-sized observation window the jungle tank glowed. The moist air made visible clouds of wetness that drifted by in shrouds. Water slipped down the glass, trailing streaks so thick that even a man like Mr. Rodheim - with his quarter inch thick glasses - could see them.

"It can see you, you know..."

Maile looked up, wrinkling his nose and rubbing the scruff on his chin. "I doubt that, as far as you know it can't a see an inch in front of it's ugly mug." Despite the Samoan's words he stared out through the eight-inch thick glass. A semblance of fear could be seen behind his straight face, as if he was telling himself it was a lie, but his mind knew it was true - after all...it was true.

The biologist knew it could see just fine without it's headgear, how good no one really knew though. It could see enough to drop on the bison though...and that was enough to make Julian hesitant...maybe not Maile, but Maile was an idiot. If Maile died then it was Maile's fault.

When Julian turned back to the screen the alien was gone.

Fearful at once, Julian checked all the monitors and then switch to infrared vision. There - in the swamp - the alien was submerged to it's neck, head turned right at the cameras; body temperature rising in the warm bubbling water. The pang of terror was still evident, leaving behind a lingering sting in his gut. The talk about it had made him nervous quickly, and seeing it gone like that...he almost pissed himself.

"I'm heading to the restroom..."

Julian stood sluggishly at first, then turned to Maile. "Just watch what your doing for five minutes would you? I'll be back in a second."

Maile grunted and pushed the catalog away, watching both their screens intermittently as Julian left around the corner. "Nervous little shit." With a cross of his legs he resumed flipping through his catalog with a frown on his face, little did he know the optics on one security camera fitted its zoom over his shoulder, watching and recording. The man behind this certain camera had found just what he was looking for.

The bait.

* * *

**_Stasis at...99.98%_**

Her heart hammered, jackknifing as the clock struck 8:00am. Nothing happened, Carl wasn't behind her, no alarms went off signaling the end of one shift and the start of another. Another five minutes went by and the prospect of working a double became more and more possible.

**_Stasis at...99.99%_**

**_Authorize logout..._**

**_waiting..._**

**_waiting..._**

**_action reset_**

Bauler paused over the keyboard, letting the terminal reset itself back to its main readout screen. The green monitor hummed as the numbers continued to change in minor increments, always fluttering back up to where they were suppose to be seconds later.

The door opened suddenly. Her chair turned quicker than her mind could comprehend the action of seeing who it was. She'd expected Carl of course - the fat greasy bulldog - but no, it was 'Dean'. How did he know which office was hers? - and thankfully she knew not to bite out snarky remarks until you came face to face with your victim.

"Dean?"

"Day-shift didn't make it I assume?"

His tone hadn't really been as curious as it should have been, more along the lines of a statement than anything really. Bauler arched a brow, causing her glasses to shift along her nose. "Does that surprise you?"

"No."

She opened her mouth, but 'Dean' slammed the door - hard - behind him. Those blue eyes of his searched around her small space, falling along the strewn wrappers and old coffee mugs, then his gaze fell on the terminal behind her shoulder. She'd like to have said she wasn't intimidated by him, but you couldn't tell your heart to stop racing no matter how hard one tried. Again she opened her mouth to speak, and once again he stopped her. A strong firm hand clapped down on her shoulder, shaking her whole body and making her chair whine in the process. A breath of air left her mouth in surprise but she didn't make a sound. "I bumped into Mr. Rodheim in the corridors just a few minutes ago." He paused and looked her over; the look doing nothing for her frame of mind.

"He got the readouts you'd sent to level A an hour ago." She could tell he was going to talk more but she blurted out as she ripped her shoulder from his grasping hand.

"And?"

"And Carls being replaced." Bauler frowned, hearing that shift when he said 'replaced'.

"I know how you feel, he said Maile was as well, being replaced that is. Maile, I worked with him you know."

She didn't know and she didn't care. Every small cute conversation they'd had before was nothing but bullshit right now. Her shoulder still throbbed from his heavy grip and he was looking down at her with strange eyes, as if he'd been brainwashed...maybe not brain washed, but he certainly wasn't acting like 'Dean'.

"Why do I care?"

"A few technicians are setting up the monitors as we speak. Mr. Rodheim wants you to watch the numbers while he tests a new approach with the ET. Carl apparently proved...inadequate."

She sank into her chair when 'Dean' leaned down, almost touch his nose to hers. She could smell his breath, it smelt like vomit; vomit and after shave. She turned her head sharply when he pushed forward.

"Nine o'clock sharp. You've got forty five minutes. Eat, drink, take a piss. Level A will be watching the numbers until you arrive."

His mouth brushed her cheek, a seconds worth or disgust coursed through her and then he was straightening out his suit and shutting her door gently behind him. In a immature air she stuck her tongue out, shaking her head and promptly rubbed her cheek with the back of her hand, leaving raised red flesh from the abuse.

Never had she felt so violated in her whole life, and she'd almost been raped when she fourteen... a ticket to how disgusting he was despite the chiseled jaw and pretty blue eyes. To think she'd thought of asking him to the bar for shots...

"Gross..."

She turned back in her chair, placing her forehead gently on the crumb covered desk beside the keyboard. She took the next ten minutes to rest her eyes, let the flare of rage dissipate and pop her fingers against her knees.

She'd seen the creature from a port disk Carl had swiped from a buddy in surveillance six months back. It was something not as grotesque as she'd expected - nor everyone said, but terrifying all the same. It was like some kind of amazonian lizard with powerful incisors that jutted out of it's face. It'd been a short clip of the alien wading through water, looking at the camera in the last few seconds. The look it had in it's eye...

The alien wasn't just some dog in a kennel...

She didn't want to see it in person though, even with eight-inch thick glass between her and it.

Food sounded good, but she had a vision of vomiting in fear on the keyboards, with all the VIP of the company seeing her clad in spittle. Wouldn't get a raise after something like that. More coffee would just put her on edge, and the same went for another cigarette. Water; she stood with the idea of water, and its cool refreshing taste as it trickled down into her abused stomach.

At the water cooler; a humorous little nook aside a large open corridor, ceiling thirty feet above her head and hanging light on wires as long as twenty five feet. All of this open space was surrounding a lone water cooler, welded into the wall with a counter on its right full of taps; taps containing everything from protein powder to the closest thing one could legally get to speed.

She drank the water straight, quickly, until her stomach felt heavy. Sweat broke out again on her forehead, some forming on her lower back and soaking through her high-waisted slacks.

In no more than ten minutes the water had shot through her kidneys and into her bladder - so she used the bathroom, sitting on the toilet long after she'd finished just to bide out her time. Her 8-bit cheap wrist-tech told her she had ten minutes. In five she could be at level A and if she followed the signs she'd been in the head-honcho's room in another two.

For the last three minutes of her alone time she sat; waited, holding her head in her hands with elbows on her bare knees. Panic was gone - the water cleared her head, but her stomach ached for another reason. She was bleeding now. Two months had gone by - one month of panic and now she had her period.

Luck; luck was on her side. She wasn't festering with a growing baby, but now she was bleeding with nothing but a fucking roll of toilet paper and a room full of men waiting for her to monitor the numbers for their fucking experiment.

"This...is a shit-storm." - but she took care of it, and on her merry-fucking-hoho way to level A she went.

* * *

There it is, first one posted. Since this is my first Predator stab I'd like some feedback if you have the time. Anonymous accepted of course. I watch the movies and read the comics but much of the little details are left out in those things, books I haven't read on them yet. Any suggestions, problems, or praise would help greatly. I do have the second chapter written, needs editing but will be up rather soon - and yes, there will be plenty more of our Yautja, don't worry.

On another note I haven't come up with a good name for our humanoid friend here. Any suggestions in your reviews will be noted. :) Thanks for reading.

**Terms**

ooman- human

kv'var- hunt

ch'hkt-a- nervous energy

gkinmara- video camera

awu'asa- armor

dah'kte- wristblades

s'yuit-de- coward

Chiva- trail

Kainde Amedha- hard meat

vayuh'ta- air


	2. ladies first

So soon? you asked? Yes. So soon. Enjoy this one for what it is (violence and hormones). Thank you all who reviewed, faved, alerted and read. Hope I'm not butchering the greater alien science-fiction as ever dreamt up.

Don't own Predator, or Aliens.

* * *

"No, that's the wrong wire. No! It's color-coded for easy set up you moron!"

Julian stood, arms crossed over his chest; one elbow at his side with a hand touching his jaw while two coverall-techs set up the third terminal. He still felt ill, Maile wasn't here when he got back - as expected. Rodheim was seated in the center chair, reminding Julian of one of those old star ship captains - it was probably how the man thought of himself anyhow.

To think that in just a few minutes they'd all be witness to the slaughter of two of their former co-workers. If anything Julian could see getting a laugh out of watching Carl's fat hide heaving around drastically inside the tank. Maile wasn't a death he was extremely fond of seeing though, despite the Samoan's lack of proper work ethic and overall attitude - Julian had known the sod for years. It'd be strange seeing his spine ripped out of him, while still remembering the debauchery they both shared in back home.

At 8:59 am Ms. Bauler came in. Her face was flushed a distinctly different color than the rest of her - it made the darker side of his mind picture bending her over the power supply. It'd been too long since he'd fucked anything without paying for it, and she wasn't the worst choice strutting around the complex. She ignored him though, avoided him really, as she gently swatted the two men working on 'her' terminals out of the way. She got down on hands and knees unplugging over four separate wires and cords before snapping them all in their proper place. One of the two technicians grumbled, itching his arm as she fixed what should have been the very reason they received a paycheck at all.

He watched her ass, like the two other technicians were. No one had much respect for her besides the meager work she did and the ass she lugged around under those unflattering pants. At this angle though, they showed off her ass'ets nicely, and a free show was hard to come by...so they stared unabashed.

She was back up, crawling into the oversized swivel chair in moments, covering that ass with a black leather seat.

Julian stepped over to his twelve stacked and ordered monitors, plunking down in his own perfectly sized chair as the show began. Everyone else followed suit aside from the security agents in the back whom hadn't moved an inch since he'd arrived over thirty minutes ago. The fire power was more for internal-trouble than tank-trouble.

Rodheim turned in his chair to them, making a 360-degree curve around to all corners of the room as if surveying his star-ship crew before take off. His old thick east-Berlin accent reigned forth, hiding his dark eyes behind a convincing smile.

"This is the first test of it's kind everyone. I hope you all can appreciate how lucky you are to see such a fine display of brutality, precision and cunning. This is a creature of strength, agility, and bloodlust Gentlemen...", Mr. Rodheim turned to Ms. Bauler, extending a curt nod, "...and Ladies. We are at the forefront of understanding the first extraterrestrial species human kind has had the pleasure of capturing. Let us enjoy the show, and marvel...in it's nature."

When Rodheim turned to face the thick plated glass - encompassing the whole diameter of the wall - he rose one liver-spotted hand. Nothing happened at first, but in a few moments there followed a series of red lights, churning and dancing inside the tank. A bellow of a noise ruptured, releasing clouds of yellow gas that married with the hanging mist in the higher portions of the tank. The young asian man at the vital signs gave a swift nod moments later - again Rodheim held up a hand. The gas was filtered out quicker than it had been expelled, but leaving behind a powdered residue against the far corners of the glass.

Everything and everyone was quiet for the next five minutes. Julian looked over to Ms. Bauler who was steady watching the terminals, imputing a code with the strike of her fingers when something caught her attention. She was a dedicated little tosser, that was for sure.

The twelve monitors showed the alien in three different angles; all of in which it was slumped on it's stomach beside the bank of the swamp, blowing shards of thick grass with it's shallow breath. Julian tilted a head up to the glass window, searching it out amongst the haze.

"Sir, recommend cutting down the moisture contents for visibility."

"Yes, Mr. Tonelley...uhh...", Rodheim turned slowly, gesturing towards Ms. Bauler who paused as he directed her with a lax hand. "Would you please take it down by at least 30% Ms. Bauler? We'll see how that works for now, hmm?"

"Yes Mr. Rodheim." Her voice sounded stiff and it had Julian frowning, even when she turned to glare at him before punching in the codes. He found her confidence troubling. She was manually overriding the atmospheres composition...odd, since normally one would just entered the desired levels and let the grid do the rest. As misogynistic as Julian could be, he had to give her credit where credit was owed; she knew her way around the systems framework.

As soon as she finished tapping away the mist died down considerably, leaving a clear green-hued view of the twitching alien as it came to. It's mandibles shivered at the ending joints, eyes open but lacking pupils. It's stained claw-tipped fingers started scratching into the muddy bank; the probable cause for Rodhiem's abrupt rise from his chair. The aging man stepped up to the glass barrier for a closer look, fingers adjusting his thick glasses as the alien's back muscles started to bunch.

Julian watched through the glass, ignoring the monitors as his gaze flicked over to Ms. Bauler. She'd been watching too, but her eyes darted back to the terminals when he coughed in her direction. She punched in another code, and glued her eyes to the screen as its reflection projected in her own set of spectacles.

* * *

The air was clean now, but the soft tissue running along his inner mouth burned with contact residue from the poison made wet and sticky by the humidity. Oomans had developed such an effective poison he couldn't help but be mildly impressed; deployed in perfects amounts to incapacitate him for such a brief amount of time - just enough for their needs. With eyes still rolled into his skull he let his tongue slip out between his clenched teeth and tight tusks for a quick smell. Clean indeed the air was, even...sweet...like that of a ripe _naxa_.

The small ridge of pliable flesh above his inner mouth engorged; swelling pleasantly as the distant tang became more noticeable. Another type of poison possibly; a hormone based toxin to rile him up for another kill?

The man with the moon-eyes was at the glass again; watching as the predator got to his knees. When ever this man came this close the ooman was expecting nothing short of a show; a _kv'var_. Perhaps another of their large herbivores was being thrown at him for their amusement? or was it a beast worthy of its own _th'syra_ this time? - one he could track and hang from the branches.

Another smell of the air - with a flick of his pulsing tongue - detected an array of interesting scents: urine - ooman urine, and potent fear. Lowering his own heart beat to a small crawl he could hear another pulse...and another...both pounding in terror. The oomans had given him two of their own; one hiding...the other...the other was near.

The leaves russled to his right and instantly he threw his head in its direction, hearing fallen branches snap and a heavy gasp travel, even past the clogging fog. The time was upon him, and it had been too long.

In an instant he released his knees, leaping into his favorite tree; this was where he would wait. Oomans had been given to him, and indeed the man with the moon-shaped eyes would see how brutal his own death would be, as he executed a demonstration on their rejected ooman brothers. Once he'd broken free of this fake jungle, the elder ooman would be the first to have his _th'syra_ taken; a satisfying end to his captivity.

Underneath his shrouded form the ooman sprinted across the slick grass, loosing it's footing and imprinting it's face into the soupy swamp bank - there it stayed for a few moments as if in shock. Soon, without a break in his ever-rising pulse the ooman picked itself up, darted in uneven lines to the glass where it slammed itself with a heavy scream of terror.

The ooman yelled, cursed, and recited a brief _kantra_ as it banged curled fists against the glass; a useless endeavor if he'd ever saw one. Oomans had always been a luxury for high ranked-warriors to hunt, kill and collect. This ooman - the one heaving itself upon the wet glass as if it could crawl up the barricade to safety - was not one of those luxury prey oomans, but he could make do with what was given to him...for now.

With an excited flutter of his mandibles he slipped from the branch, dropping down behind the ooman with a soft noise that was sucked up by the dense mist. Carefully, with a trill he rose off bent knees to his full height as the ooman flipped himself around at the sound of his clacking tusks. The ooman screamed, back slapping against the glass; arms extended as if bracing for it's inevitable death. The sight was thrilling. His own pulse rising in anticipation as he took a measured step forwards, enjoying the shivers of the ooman.

It's fear tasted delicious, this was a heart he'd heard beating behind the glass before as well. This was a ooman that'd been watching him for a long while; the knowledge made his mandibles flare, furry painting his crest a deep red. Suddenly revenge was more ideal than toying with it.

When he lunged - curling his claws between it's delicate ribs - the ooman howled like a true beast. It's alluring red blood splattered in droves along the glass when he jerk his arm over his side, ripping bone and meat out of it's ridged body. As the blood soaked down the oomans knees, he cackled and curled his lower mandibles; laughing.

No more could the ooman run and no more could it cry or scream. The ooman shivered against the glass, body in shock.

He watched it's eyes slip into it's head; droop and slip upwards again as the three-inch deep gash continued to gush forth. With a howl - signifying his _nain-desintye-de_ - he slammed a fist into the oomans chest, slipping inside through the already hallow fissure easily. Once inside he spread his fingers, feeling the hot wetness of it's body suckle around his claws. The ooman gave a hiccup as he prodded quickly, ceasing the beating organ in seconds. His lower tusks lifted; tips curling to his chin as he ripped the heart out with one fell-swoop jerk. More of the ooman's iron-rich blood splattered on the glass, on him, and on it's dying ooman.

All the prey did was gurgle and die as he held it's beating heart between his claws. As the light left it's eyes he watched it slide down the glass, slumping into the ground as the moon-eyed elder was exposed behind the glass.

With a growl he tossed the now still heart at the glass, watching it cover the ooman-elders form as it slid down the barrier between them. The man would be hallow chested soon too, very soon.

When he bent to retrieve his trophy that scent caught his tongue again as he cleaned one lower tusk of red ooman blood; a sweet cloying scent that had his muscles expanding and pulsing under heating skin. He was no virgin to this feeling, yet the situation was unexpected. His body was preparing for a female; drenching his shoulders in _n'dui'se_, preparing his muscles for rigorous mating, and engorging his sex with blood.

Somewhere another ooman was hiding and weeping; a boring prospect compared to the faint smell wafting into his mouth with each powerful breath. The scent was far away, venting in like the yellow poison. However faint; the reaction was significant. Unknowing as to how they'd developed such a powerful Yautja _n'dui'se_ - he held his mandibles tight from the scent.

For only the second time he found his situation poor. His _mei'hswei_ would laugh at him when they heard he'd been captured the first ooman day upon their planet, let alone tempted with artificial _n'dui'se_. A skilled warrior as himself, given privilege to hunt on this planet by their elders was not suppose to allow themselves to be imprisoned so easily, despite the power of these oomans biological warfare - it brought shame upon him now more than ever.

When the smell continued to assail him, he stole himself into the depths of his hanging tree in an escape. This was one way he refused to be toyed with.

More grey blotches gathered at the glass; blurry oomans hiding like _s'yuit_-de as they poisoned him with his own species scent. Everyone of them - he could already envision impaling each and everyone with his own bare claws.

* * *

"Calm down everyone, now...what do you mean the readings are off Ms. Bauler?" The level of calm in Mr. Rodheim's voice the past five minutes had made everyone nervous - it was a sickly, forced, and violent-coated kind of calm.

"Somethings being emitted by the ET...the grid can't categorize it, but it's a strong 1.3% of the total air composition..."

"A musk related to the kill? Pheromones?"

Bauler shook her head, heart pounding as Mr. Rodheim's gaze shot to hers - it went icy for a second before softening. "I don't rightly know Mr. Rodhiem...it's not throwing anything else off, except the generates pumping out larger amounts of Nitrogen to make up for the rate of it's breathing."

Rodhiem fumed, swiping his head from Bauler to the asian grasping at the edge of his desk. "Mr. Iopez, bio-functions?"

They could all see the shifting form of the alien on the branch, wringing it's hands and flaring it's mandibles erratically.

"Off the charts, Sir...it's all the signs of...panic."

Rodhiem turned, furry for the first time purely evident on his face. The room went quiet save for the grids feedback beeping and the fast 'blip' of the pulse monitor as it increased with the alien's heart rate. Something was wrong, and having been the one to note the strange readings first, Bauler felt his furious eyes set on her...even when they weren't.

The blood stained on the glass behind Rodhiem's head, as if haloing him to exemplify his god-complex.

As Rodheim fled to the vitals, pushing the asian replacement out of the way to see the readings himself, Bauler stood from her seat. 'Dean', or...Julian's eyes burnt against her shoulder as she look up to the alien in the tree. She could feel Julian watching as she stepped cautiously from her terminals. Even through the thick glass she could have sworn she'd seen it's eyes glowing heatedly at her. She hadn't gotten a good look at it yet. Julian had caught her staring when the alien dropped for the kill, and she'd been swiftly reprimanded. Even when she heard the dying scream of pure terror she kept her eyes focused on the numbers. Death was much more real, much more unforgettable when it was occurring just a few meters away from you...even if it was separated by eight thick inches. The blood streaking across the panes added to the nightmare-esque situation she found herself in.

Now though - with them distracted - she found she couldn't stop the urge to get a look; a real look. She walked on; stepped up the two steps to the observation deck and placed a hand on the chrome railing. Only four feet from the glass and she felt her stomach twist painfully as a shot of fear gripped the axis of her body - it was looking right at her. No doubts now. It's eyes were small inside it's tree-shaded silhouette, but they were aimed directly at her.

One more step and it's head tilted; one of those jutting incisors flaring out from it's face in the darkness. She'd been keeping this aliens tank fresh for eleven months and seventeen days now, and all she wanted was a little peek...just one...

"...simple look.", when she spoke she took two more steps, so close to the glass her breath came back at her as she exhaled. The alien was hidden, covered by the shadows of the tree, and the glare on the glass didn't help any when she tilted her head to see it.

It was then she heard the screech of the vitals behind her; ringing so loud it bounced loudly even after the signal had died. Rodheim, the asian, Julian and the other five team members were watching her as the sounds of warning from her terminal made another cut in the air. Only when their bewildered eyes left her did she worry. Hesitantly, with her heart in her throat, she turned around, following their gazes...knowing that looking would be a mistake but wanting to all the same.

It was there, behind her shoulder, pressed against the glass that - to her - wasn't remotely thick enough. The surveillance footage didn't do it justice. It's dangerous mouth was exposed; incisors spread, scratching at the glass as a contorting tongue swirled in a circle from sharp pearly teeth. It's throat went down deep, darkening in color from the pink of its mouth around flaps of folded skin. It's brow was elongated; a pattern of interlocking browns and reds fading out to sharp ridges. Tubular hair, similar to the shape of it's tongue sprung out from the side of it's head in long thick dreads. Awe and appreciated may have been her first emotions at the sight of such a dominating humanoid, but the way it stared her down - amber eyes shining and shaking in a sunken brow - it made her lower body ripple. She felt the blood of her menstruation flow between her legs as fear made home in her belly.

Suddenly it made a bellowing sound, echoing through the glass, making her heart shake like a heavy bass would. It was an alien sound, one that compared to little she'd ever heard before; high pitched but heavy at the same instance. It's strangeness took away from some of it's intimidation.

Bauler pulled her fists to her chest as Rodhiem approached, preparing for some sort of reprimand, but the man did little but stand beside her. The alien didn't acknowledge him at first, just kept up it's panting gaze on her as if all he wanted was to rip her spine from between her shoulders. This must have been a new behavior for all of them, seeing it like this...

Rodhiem's look was one of marvel, and she couldn't help but turn back to the alien again. It's hands - the size of her head - were splayed on the glass, claws scratching at the glass. It's muscles bulged; skin shinning and dimpled against the light. A pattern, similar to the one above it's eyes was painted around it's arms, sides and...

Her eyes had followed down before her common sense could tell her how wrong of an idea it was. Audibly, she cursed, backing up at the sight of it's nude form pressing into the glass.

Rodhiem looked back at her as if bored by her noise of shock, resuming to look at the quivering alien before him.

She bunched her bony fingers into her blouse, feeling the heat in her cheeks cause her ears to burn as her eyes kept darting down to it's swollen gentiles. It was the largest cock she'd ever seen, and suddenly the situation made her cup her stomach, as if the act would keep her - mind and body - intact.

"Levels Mr. Iopez?" Rodhiem sounded fine now, calm as he looked up to the entranced alien.

"I..I don't know. By human standards...he's going into cardiac arrest. We're in the dark, Sir."

"No..no, no, no...thats not it.", Rodhiem seemed to chant with a shake of his head. The old man clasped his withered hands behind his back - twisting a gold ring on his finger - before leaning to the side. Bauler watched him slip his eyes over her roughly.

"Come over here Ms. Bauler. We're trying another experiment today."

No, she should refuse. The intent in his eyes was indicative of masochists, murders, psychopaths...all people who used others for their gain. She took a brief glance around the room, seeing all eyes on her. It was only now that she noticed a firearm on two of the men's hips by the farthest station, near the door. No, there was no refusal...

She did as she was told. With weary eyes shifting from the alien to Rodheim, she stretched the fabric of her shirt, pressing the tips of her fingers deeply against the intertwined stands. This was a feeling worst than fear; a sensation hard to describe, but one that most people feel someway or another in there life. I'd been the same feeling when she'd watched a car crash into her, knowing full well that in a matter of seconds she could be killed.

When she got close enough, an old hand grasped above her elbow; so old feeling that the fingers felt more like metal than bone. He dragged her to the glass, almost pressing her into it.

When she felt the hot glass on her cheek she didn't hate herself as much as she'd thought when she whimpered like a little girl. The alien made that same violent howl again, draining off into a crying shriek at her proximity.

It was upon opening her eyes that she realized she'd shut them at the terrifying noise. She saw Rodhiem's smiling face as it gazed up through the glass at the alien; hand still curled around her arm.

This wasn't happening. This shouldn't be happening...but it was and the two armed men were suddenly behind her, pulling her by each arm from the glass as Rodhiem continued to smile.

She knew; knew even before Rodhiem gave his order. He was going to throw her in the tank; the tank that she'd worked stabilizing for eleven fucking months and seventeen fucking days! Six days a week, crunching numbers, starving on coffee and cigarette in twelve hour shifts! - and this was how he was going to pay her? They were tossing her in the fucking tank!

She snapped. If she was getting tossed in like some snack then she wasn't going to go in docile. She could bite; she could punch when the mood was right. She wasn't going in the tank!

With a sudden jerk she ripped an arm from one of the mens grip; taking the chance when he started talking to Rodhiem. She used this freedom to maim the other one across the face. In a fit of luck she caught her nail in his eye, digging in deep when she felt the soft bulb. With a yank the eye popped out, falling out the unshaved man's socket to rest on his cheek in a moment of campy-horror. He screamed, released her to the floor where she fell and tumbled down the two steps without grace. In the surge of her flight or fight response her body tune off her hearing. She didn't hear the alien as it screamed; didn't hear it as it's fists pounded on the glass, or how everyone started to panic when the first hair-splinter broke out in the eight-inch thick glass. Soon, following her hearing her vision blurred when a rough kick landed on the back of her head. Someone stepped on her, another heavy footfall landing on her hip, forcing it into the edge of the last step painfully.

It seemed like seconds that her vision had been dark. None of the screams registered anymore as she picked her head up off the floor, dried blood pulled at the skin of her neck as she rolled her head to the side. The only noise she heard were her ears ringing as she scrambled up to her knees.

Noise came back slowly, but the first thing she noticed was the red emergency lights casting a rotating blaze along the walls. The door in front of her was wide open; a lone wrist-tech lying on the floor, drawing her attention to the dark hallways outside the room...

A sudden sense of solitude surrounded her, "Anyone...?", she held her neck in one hand, resting on her ass and favoring the side that hadn't been trampled upon. Blood flaked off of her neck, originating from a cut at the base of her skull that was numb to the touch.

A muffled shatter made her jump, jostling her hip painfully. Nothing besides her terminals and cold coffee filled her mind, memories of low stasis levels and...

The sound happened again. Finally she turned to a sight that paralyzed her. The glass had splintered into trillions of tiny millimeter sized chunks, frosting the humanoid alien as it assailed the barrier with it's shoulder time and time again. It was practically free already, and as she sat there with her neck in her hand and a dumb look on her face she knew she was going to die soon. Even if she ran right now she'd be the first it would catch. There was no sign of anyone else...as if she'd been out longer than just a few seconds...even the sound on the emergency signals had timed out.

Another crunch of glass made her heart tighten. A lone piece of glass fell from the center of the glass web - it made a delicate sound as it hit the polished floor. Like the first drop of rain before the hurricane...

Normally people said things before their own deaths right? - at least if they had time they did. They made amends, asked for forgiveness of their sins, made a joke maybe? Nothing came to mind though, no wrongs that should have been righted...no guilt she found she needed to express...no nothing. If anything she found only pity for her own missing emotions, as if she really were nothing but a hollow shell.

Death was pounding it's way through a private sector's eight-inch missile-proof glass, and the only thing that bothered her was how her body would fall after the alien ripped her head off. Dying wasn't as terrifying an idea as that of being found with her body draped in an unflattering position; as terrifying as having an aneurism with the vibrator still in your snatch.

But those thoughts mattered little when a small explosion of glass littered the floor, some sprinkled down along her hand where it was splayed by her side.

She was ready, and with a stiff upper lip she held fast as another pound on the glass sent more shards flying across the room, so it was funny that the one thing to shake her out of her daze was her terminals. They let out a series of high pitched beeps as the pressure in the tank dropped, along with the Nitrogen levels which mattered only enough to keep the ET comfortable.

But it all happened too late; by the time she stood, ready to use flight over fight it was too late.

With another shatter - only this time fully audible and accompanied by a hiss of releasing air - a fist stuck through the shards. Bright green liquid highlighted the glass like a sheen of daylight, dripping down even more when the fist uncoiled - fingers clenching sluggishly as if testing the feel of the air - until it was slowly removed.

* * *

It was the small thing they had with them; something tiny and something soaked with ripe smelling _n'dui'se_. He wanted it; to mate it, kill it, eat it...anyway he could have it he wanted it.

The scent overrode anything else, activating the back of his brain; forgoing logic or decency for that matter - and when two oomans drug his _Lou-dte Kalei_ away the last shred of his species intellect washed away. He roared; it was his! and instinct to horde what was his coursed through his muscles.

The first crack in the glass wall made his tusks lift with amusement. He would take his _Lou-dte- Kalei_ and eat the oomans. The scent was a blessing now, one he'd embrace as it fueled his muscles with a furry only matched by that of a near-death.

He steeled his belly into his ribs, lifting his arms yet again for another assail against the glass. More splinters ran into the depth of the glass, causing a panic on its other side. Ooman screams and chaos; sirens and swirling lights started when he switch to attacking the weakness with his shoulder. With each crack the scent grew. Saliva dripped down his teeth, _n'dui'se_ beaded along his shoulders, and the color of his crest enflamed into a deep red.

Long after his shoulder split open - his blood coating the shards and in between the cracks of glass - the oomans sirens had long since gone silent.

Faintly he could hear the pulse of the_ Lou-dte Kalei _picking up. The tiny thing was still inside, close to the glass...so close - he could smell it's fear and it's _n'dui'se_ as if it was coating him. The oomans had left it behind; betrayers all of them.

When the glass was soft he trilled in pleasure, thrusting his fist into the ruins, shredding his arm but feeling the cold air on the other end. Slowly - as the pain ran up to his shoulder - he removed his arm from the wall, giving it one more shove with his shoulder. A cave in of shards released; the tanks air rushed out from behind him as the tank de-pressurized swiftly. He held fast, holding his mandibles tight to his face at the onslaught of powerful_ n'dui'se_ with the release of his atmosphere. The smell was overpowering, causing his body to shudder in pleasure.

Breathing, however troublesome with so much Oxygen, was delicious. His skin felt hot, body soft and moving into the room his captives had been watching him in for so long.

There at the back of the room was his _Lou-dte Kalei_; resting on a door watching him. A female ooman...she was ooman. What he expected he wasn't sure - just that the scent of her was maddening - but she was a small ooman...an ugly flat-faced ooman.

"_Ooomahhnnn...Lou-dte Kalei ooman? Pauk!_" He cursed, curling his claws into his palms, pricking his hide as the smell continued to clog his mind. Suddenly he roared out his frustration, watching with satisfaction as the ooman female hesitated only briefly before darting down the hallway in terror.

With the ooman gone, her scent wasn't as strong. Hurriedly he looked around the room for something to cover his mouth with. His sex throbbed painfully, becoming too much to ignore. He wouldn't _pauk_ an ooman, no matter how tempting the smell...no matter how...

As the _n'dui'se_ dimmed he found himself wandering aimlessly - it was furious to find he'd been following the scent when he paused into the small hallway. More of it - he needed more of it. The ooman female was addicting. He gave another roar and charged, ignoring anything prior for the scent he wanted more of. The blood running down his shredded arm was numb against the arousal, along with the split in his shoulder and the heavy breaths he was forced to take.

"_Ooomahn!_"

* * *

Second chapter executed. His name will be disclosed in the next chapter. Thank you BelleInconnue for the ideas. (I'll check that out and see what I come across)

Thank you all for reading along so far. More posted this weekend after my mid-terms. Until then I'm open to suggestions for future installments, haven't gotten a firm direction yet on how I'm gonna take this. Review please ( every bit of feedback helps) never realized how much it all meant until I started writing.

_Yautja terms..._

ooman- human

kantra- prayer

naxa- type of fruit

kv'var- hunt

th'syra- skull

Lou-dte Kalei- child barer

mei'hswei- brother

s'yuit-de- coward


	3. can you hear me now?

Heres for chapter 3. This one's a bit longer and as always contains explicit material. You be warned.

This one had been beta-ed for me, by the kind BelleInnocue, (thanks chicky) she may be doing the rest, so that way we can keep the readings neat and tidy.

Now! Enjoy!

* * *

He was chasing her, maybe even toying with her. Bauler wasn't stupid, maybe at the moment one couldn't tell that by the way her mouth hung open as she ran but she knew...she fucking knew he could out-run her, knew if he really just wanted to rip her spine out then he could have minutes ago. He...and it was a he – after the sight of what was between it's legs, there was no mistaking it's sex.

He'd looked so much larger without the thick glass in front of him. The sight of him - with the optic lights shining on his naked form - was stained behind her eyes; burned even. When she turned a corner, seeing the countless doorways and signs pass her on both ends they were only second to the hostile alien on her heels.

His sharp, fluttering - what were they? – mandibles? – they kept showing up in her sights as she ran, along with those bright determined eyes – it was almost as if she could have seen her own death shining in them. Hallucinations brought on by hyperventilation? Or was it just pure unadulterated fear?

Another corner took her into a bright hallway, lights of red and yellow casting shades on the floor and walls like a light show. She swallowed in lung fulls of air when her body slowed to the right to take another corner turn. He'd sounded vigorous despite the gurgling croak of his speech when he'd uttered those series of clicks and barks to her before – now the alien words were repeating themselves against her eardrums, competing for strength with the sound of her own pounding heart.

That green liquid had to have been blood – she knew it now - bright and glowing as it'd ran down his arm to the floor. He'd wanted out of that tank bad – so what was the change in heart? What'd been stopping him from doing it sooner? – and why did the reason of his escape have to be triggered by her? The amount of questions (all unanswered) coursing through her skull was too much to bear. She couldn't help the self-loathing growl as she swung around into a dimmer hallway. It wasn't about where she was going anymore; it was about escape – pure and simple. Only...it wasn't simple. She could hear him behind her, rumbling under her feet as if he was just nipping at her heels, but every time she risked a look backwards there was nothing but empty space.

What was it he'd wanted from her? Could it have smelt the blood between her legs? – the smell making him murderous? If that was it then Rodheim must have been hoping for a gory show after deciding to toss her in the tank. A sneer came to her lips, followed by a snarl and a curse for the wrinkled old-shit. Though when she thought of the answer in terms of plain murder, it didn't explain the hard-on she'd had the displeasure of noticing. The answer to that surfaced only momentarily - (sex) - before she forced it down with a gasp of air.

"...no..", she grunted between baited breaths.

With a whine she took an abrupt bend into an open doorway, accidentally slamming her shoulder against the frame with a slap in her desperate need to hide. She spun at the sharp contact; twirling in a tight neat circle before falling flat on her face. The pain was shocking, even more so when she turned the wrong way on her nose before feeling it promptly crack. She didn't howl in pain, merely held in her breath, surviving as the pain peaked and swiftly subsided. Under her, stained in a dark red blob, was snot and blood.

"Owh..gawd!...fucker!" Bauler hissed under her breath; quiet but not quiet enough. A broken nose was the least of her concerns though, and the fear was powerful enough to relinquish the pain rather quickly – so she stood, scouted the room (a lab) and made like a three-dollar whore to a group of beeping memory banks... Rodhiem should have been the one in this predicament, not her. So many other people were worthy of being forced to compact themselves between two hot stifling banks; more worthy of a broken nose, and much more worthy to know death was coming…much more than she. It was time for pity she decided, as the air around her turned burning and quiet.

Pity: a natural reaction she knew, but knowing it only made her hate the word and how it felt that much more. Her shoulders were squashed together, hips shoved backwards enough to whine in their own way and the damn bones in her fingers just wouldn't stop vibrating.

She'd hid herself in some sort of laboratory by the looks of the back-lit blue windows; filled with strange plates and equipment. Desks had flasks, beakers, and vast arrays of fluid filled jars lining along them. Computers were blinking restoration lights, as if someone had wiped them clean before evacuating the lab. Piles of papers were strewn along the floors, cutting the shine factor from the floor by 75%. In one corner were piles of scrap and wires mingled like banana peels and pizza boxes would be in a dumpster. It had to have been humorous; amusing at least to some god or deity that she would end up dying like this; squished up like a lone sardine.

The room had remained quiet, aside from the orchestra of tones the banks gave around her – not to mention the buzzing of the over head lights.

Immediately she jolted when the high-toned call of her stalker sounded close by – it was the same mangled words he'd spoken to her before. _Ooman_! It was terrifying; waiting for what seemed like forever in the dark nook with her palms overlapping her mouth. The blood from her nose was warm and wet as it slipped down her fingers, dripping onto her shirt in audible 'pats'. Air bubbles popped from her nose as she breathed out - breathing in lead her to swallowing her own blood; the taste bitter and thick.

Eighteen-dollars an hour - in a place where a tube of toothpaste cost twenty bucks - wasn't worth what was happening right now. Job security didn't matter now of course, but in the silence after his deafening roar she wondered if it ever really mattered. Was the promise of health and dental insurance on a corporate paycheck really worth any miniscule part of this?

Something squirmed in a jar ahead of her; something she'd assumed had been a dead, pickled specimen. It churned though against her previous passing thought, bubbling in its deep yellow juice. She was already too frightened to give the strange thing much more of her consideration, especially when the silence was broken by what she'd been hiding from.

Bauler's eyes left the fat wiggling snake, everything now centering on the sound of soft footsteps and clawed-clicks as they picked up noise inside the lab. The humanoid had found her - of course it did. Safety (a lie) had never been a thought aside from how ignorant the prospect of it was. A purring noise, like that of a stalking lion reverberated against the bank against her right; so close. The lights were blaring; a regret now that she chose to pass the light switch instead of giving it a whack. Right now, she could only hope he saw worse in the light than the dark, but something told her he didn't need sight to find her. But there was no inkling that told her the more she shifted her knees and clenched her belly the better he could find her. He seemed to have no trouble pinpointing her exact location.

Two heavily armored feet paused beside her nook; just a rampant alien's feet - who's cock was as thick as her wrist - that paused beside her corner of darkness. The shadow did indeed hide her well enough, at least from a human it would have, but he...god he was no human. Twenty years ago, when she was still an innocent twelve year old girl, never did the concept of aliens cross her mind. Even four years later when the first contact had happened, she still never assumed an alien such as this would have existed - let alone come face to face with one...and now this! - hiding from a death she knew would be the worst that life had to offer.

In front of her, cast in a stream of light were eight talon-tipped toes, curved up in an elegant structure of sturdy bone and tough hide, yet the texture was hidden by the caked mud cracking between his toes. Was this to be the last thing she saw? – and would it be any better than the rest of him…? Would he present her with her own beating heart as he laughed while her brain took its leave?

She could taste iron on her tongue from where the blood from her nose seeped past her lips. Something had to have caught his attention, a noise, a smell, something - for his large clawed-feet turned in her direction. Her hands dropped from her mouth as her eyes dead-panned upwards, slipping past clawed ankles, sculpted calves, angular knees and thick thighs…and yes...she saw the strong erection; pearling against the light and it was that sight that made her scream. In that same instant her scream left her mouth it met a roar, followed by an earthquake around her of metal as he forced the banks apart hastily.

A clawed hand reached in, catching her hair and roughly tearing it from its loose bun. Again she screamed, molding herself into the wall behind her as his heady smell infiltrated her nostrils, mixing with the smell and clot of her own blood. Bauler yanked her head back, banging it on the wall but freeing herself of his grip. He roared again, softer but more impatient - it was followed by a loud rumbling purr that birthed a wave of goose bumps on her skin. A hot well of ache settled against her pelvis as he rumbled.

Light pooled in as a bank was hurled on its side and it was then - in a fit of instinct - that she shoved her weight between his legs across the floor, evading his grasping hands in the rarest bit of luck she'd ever dreamt of – but it didn't get her far.

Strong fingers and sharp claws caught her thigh, just above her knee, sending not just a spark of pain up her leg but also a veritable storm of chills down her spine.

She sobbed as he dragged her back along the floor, and even let a cry slip when his hands ripped at the legs of her pants, shredding them like tissue paper. The answer she'd entertained before came back now, unyielding in her mind. It was going to kill her by fucking her. Something…maybe her period, the toxins they'd release in his tank, how long he'd been captive…something was causing this – but even as her pants were slipping off her legs in scraps she refused to blame herself...even him for that matter. Rodheim would pay one way or another...not even death would stop her. Bauler saw flames of revenge as cool reptilian hands grasped her thighs, pressing the front of her hips into the stone floor.

"_Ooomahn Pauk-de_?...", he hissed above her in such a way that it froze her to the bone - forgetting or maybe never even realizing how close he was against her. Those sharp tips on his mandibles sunk into her hair; searching and moistening her to the scalp, and all the while she kept still, feeling the fingers around her thighs tense and release like he was unsure suddenly. "_….Mo!..Mooo_!"

With just one easy shove she was slammed into the upturned memory bank; tossed in something akin to revulsion. This wasn't time to be picky though, she could ignore the oddness of the situation when she was far, far away from him. For now it was her moment to relish this god-given opportunity and flee like every fiber in her body told her too. She leapt to her feet, ready to scurry for the door but even that was counting on too much luck...

...she never was one for fortune anyways.

He wouldn't let her leave, which shouldn't have been a surprise, but she'd already come to terms with the reliability of her brain in this situation - it wasn't, to put things bluntly. She was quickly and quite easily pushed backwards – the second time she tried to run (which she knew was fruitless before even attempting it) landed her on a jumble of discarded scrap and wire which dug into the left cheek of her ass. Excruciating, yes, but the sight of him put her in her place, keeping her where he shoved her this time, and too afraid to do much else but hold her position.

"Shit...shit…", her heart hammered, threatening to burst under her ribs if anything else worse than this were to ensue. "...stop it…please," she muttered to her own heart, taking in shallow breaths between each word. How she hadn't succumbed to a heart attack by now she couldn't be certain, but she wasn't about to have one now.

A loud growl brought her eyes to his face, one that was tucked tightly in every which way, some parts twitching as his eyes darted over her. Those eyes, which before were bright and wide, were now darkened and small, nestled deep in the hallow pits of his brow. Something was happening, and she wasn't sure if it was any better than the prospect of death by this alien's cock.

As he stared, studying her almost nervously, she grasped at her hips for a sharp scrap of metal…anything to stick him with if the moment presented itself - but all that slipped through her fingers were razor sharp wires; ones that cause superficial cuts all over her hand.

He seemed to shudder, shaking a head full of dreads from either side in two sharp gestures. The hair clacked around his shoulders, falling around him so delicately that she was reminded of logs bouncing down stream. Bauler stared, in fright or in fascination - she didn't care anymore which it was. One of his large hands came up to his face, curling around his eyes and mouth like a mask. He was gesturing to something, by moving the hand away and then back again. Her eyes followed his spotted skin as it revealed the mechanics of his face for a fourth time; mandibles tight but quivering.

She was baffled - hands gripping inside the bundle of dangerous wires - too shocked and focused to register any pain. Again he made the gesture, clicking momentarily at her before tucking his mandible in deeper, as if to hide himself away from something. A look crossed in his eyes that had her heart quickening. Some looks were apparently universal - she could have sworn he looked annoyed with her; desperate even.

"W..what the fuck? – the fuck do you want! How am I suppose to goddamn understand..." Again he made the gesture, much quicker this time, "...that?", her last word dropped, near dumbfounded that he was actually trying to communicate with her. Another change of heart perhaps…?

"Fuck you!", she screamed at him, not realizing how much of a mistake those two words were.

She'd thought she'd grown a pair of balls suddenly, but they were castrated as soon as his eyes lit up and a deafening roar blew so roughly at her that she could feel it on her face. There was no way she could understand how merciful he was being, so she just hung her head into the crook of her shoulder as he came upon her. She stole her breath in as he pressed her down into the scraps; parts poking into her soft tissue as he covered her. Screaming wouldn't do any good so she remained quiet.

His breath wafted against her neck, in her hair and down her chest, as if he was sucking up the air around her skin desperately. She should have shut the fuck up; pretended she knew what he was saying even...it would have bided her some time, at least she wouldn't be back at square one...where she had this humanoid alien groping her body like she was some new fruit he hadn't tasted yet.

"_Hulij-bpe oomahn!_" Again that word; spat out like a slur. Maybe it was a good thing that he chose to turn her over when he did; flip her on her stomach as if she weighed nothing, just before she decided to spit out another 'fuck you' at him - he seemed to know what it meant anyway.

"_Pauk-Puck...Phhuck!_" His mandibles sank into her hair again, wading through the strands to grasp at her neck - they were strong too, as strong as her own grip. She heard the 'fuck' in his garbled tone, trying to insult her with her own language. Never had she felt so humiliated and scared. With the heavy weight of his groin just under her rear, coupled with the hands that kept her pinned in every way she'd normally use for an escape attempt. The tough ridges along the sides of his shaft must have been painfully swollen if she could feel them against her hip as he shifted over her. That purr seemed to rattle her brain, more than just a noise this time...so much more.

Everything happened rather suddenly, no slow motion and no calm before the storm...just a swift sense of arousal and blood as it gathered between her legs. It wasn't even as though shame came with it - it just was what it was. Her own sex tingled, just as if he was human and she wasn't currently bleeding.

Bauler wanted him.

When the tip of one mandible skated along her neck she moaned - and yes, something told her this was bad, but another side (the calculative, no moral, only reasonable side) said that it was better she enjoy it. He'd fuck her regardless of her opinion on it - so logic said moan, and indeed she moaned again when a hand shifted to her hip roughly; holding her in place. It wasn't as if it didn't feel good anyways...it'd been awhile since she'd caved in and fucked someone just for the sheer fun of it, and that's just what his purrs were doing to her. She wanted a good fuck _right now_, and if anything told her she'd die in the process her response was simply…'with pleasure'.

* * *

The _Lou-dte Kalei_ was ripe under his hands, ready for him after his preparations. Again he purred against the warmth of her neck, swallowing the tang of air around her. He'd resisted her once before...but not this time. She'd even said 'fuck you'. The _hulij-bpe_ ooman was a find among her species, one he may not feel much regret over indulging in after all. Her _n'dui'se_ was potent now like he'd feared before; sweet enough that his organ swelled over a _nok_ in size. He'd make sure she survived this, if anything she could promise him more pleasure on his journey back home - even join him in revenge if she so chose. She'd been betrayed by her fellow oomans, and the need for vengeance was something he had smelt on her a few times.

He grasped her neck again, gathering the _n'dui'se _of her many hairs - it was unique compared to the familiar smell of her arousal. A taste of his catch was what he wanted. Slowly he slid his tongue from his throat, snaking it around the curve of her throat. Salt: sweat, and sour:fear…then there was a sharper taste…something alien…but delicious. He would have eaten her if she'd proven to be as un-honorable as the rest of her species, and he imagined she would have been a delicacy.

Her sounds were exotic compared those of his grand Yautja females; meek but perfect indicators of his effect on her. Not an ounce of fear reeked from her. She was much more submissive now, no longer playing chase with him. He enjoyed it however - the hunt was half of it for him…always had been, and she'd given a good one, despite her trailing _n'dui'se_ and slow speed.

He growled, shoving her front down into the pile with his teeth in her back. The material around her held more of her essence and he inhaled greedily. For the moment he began with her as he would any other female, ripping her rags from her, tearing apart the barriers keeping him from his sweet _Lou-dte Kalei_. Her ooman sounds were pleasing, but her _n'dui'se_ – after parting her of the cloth around her sex – stuck him like a _sain'ja-de_ fist. Then he roared; one final call of victory before grasping her hips and lifting them into the air – it was here that something caught his eyes, just as the tip of his organ slid along her cleft…

…his bio-mask.

The walls were lined with stupid ooman cases, but inside was his _awu'asa_, his _dah'kte_ and even…the _ki'cti-pa_ he'd feared he'd lost before the oomans had even captured him. With his mask he'd be able to hide himself from the oomans _n'dui'se_ and save himself the humiliation afterwards…but he was so close to his prize…

"_C-jit!_", he cursed, forcing his eyes from trailing between the oomans legs; a sight he'd not seen yet and…shouldn't ever.

Again he cursed, roaring as he slammed the ooman on her side, leaving her while his mind still had enough honor to choose his mask over mating an ooman female. Behind him he heard her cry out; frustrated sounding as she screamed at him. He ignored it, despite how his organ arched and ached against his stomach, wanting the female regardless of her being unable to carry his pups.

A difficult journey it was to the glass case, but he clacked his tusks in personal pride before smashing the case with one loose punch. The blue light sparked out, igniting a tiny electrical burst of cold air as he ripped his property from its hold.

"No…! You can't...be serious…", ooman words; barely understandable, but he didn't care as he held his mask in one hand. Wasting no time he stifled her rampant _n'dui'se_ with a simple clamp of the mask. Comfort was akin to the match-up of readouts that ignited from the darkness of his mask. One step closer to home. No more thick _n'dui'se_; faint now and bearable. Soon his organ would shrink and he could proceed with his revenge as planned, with no shame of harming the innocent ooman female. Already the desire to turn into a _pyode amedha pauk-de_ was dissipating. He knew though, if she hadn't concealed herself in this ooman tech-room then he'd be sharing in her heat right now; still a pleasurable prospect, but not one he should indulge in now that he had a choice to ignore it. In a way she deserved his respect. Her _n'dui'se_ lead him to freedom and her exciting chase brought him to his belongings.

When he turned the _Lou-dte Kalei_ was sweating, shivering like a sick animal. With a curious click of his tusks he switched his visual settings. She was getting to her feet, hunched with her belly curled and her hands clenching; all signs of distress. She was red in his sights, near white around her sex and face…an unexpected reaction.

Clumsily, like a blinded opponent she charged for him. His tusks splayed inside his bio-mask in amusement as he stepped out of her reach and watched her crash against a desk, spilling glass that shatter on the floor. "F-fu..uck…come here! Fi..finish it!" Again he stepped one foot to the side, avoiding another uneven attempt at tackling him. The ooman did this once more before sliding down the wall she'd bounded into.

His readings showed her vitals sky-rocketing, her temperature high and even through his filters he could smell her permeating the room. A trail of heat pooled down her thighs…intriguing. With a click of one tusk he switched to normal visuals. It was blood between her legs, coating her in sticky trails; more of it was dotting the floor upon close inspection. Looking down at his own organ he saw blood on it as well, a small amount considering how much she had on her, yet it all confused him.

"_Thwei?_", he had not penetrated the female, so her bleeding he did not understand. Did other oomans do this to her before he'd broken through his prison? Curiously he stepped to her, noticing how she brought up her flat face to his own as he kneeled before her. No longer aroused by her _n'dui'se_ he cocked his head to one side; locks falling over one shoulder as he regarded her.

"Hey…you're a good boy, you know that, ugly?"

Her heart he could hear even against the sound of his own, it seemed unnatural…an effect of his musk and purring perhaps? He had no way of knowing an oomans reaction to it. Even with his translator her words made little sense. Delicately – with interest – he prodded a finger along her sex, picking up the blood along his finger – it was warm, just as his visuals had shown. She made that soft ooman noise again, and without thinking he returned it with a purr of his own.

Her heart picked up speed again, and he looked down to see her body pressing into his hand. It occurred to him then that female oomans may have had as much of a strong reaction to him as he did to them. But the blood..? He pulled in the smell through his filters; bloody finger close to his mask.

He purred at the smell, indeed this was the source of her _n'dui'se_…some sort of lure brought on by her species heat cycle? Nevertheless, the reason for it - he collected another fingers worth, intrigued with her blood and her reaction to his touch.

"Ye-esss…" A ooman word for acceptance – he knew this, yes. He leaned down to her, repeated her word back in his own language, "_Sei-i_.", and with that he pushed a finger inside her – the tightness only giving way because of the slickness from her blood.

Again she said 'yes' and again he repeated it to her in his own language, but added her word to it. "_Sei-i…Yehsssss_…" at that she curled her small ooman fingers around his arm, both hands urging him deeper. This was something he'd never done before, at least not in this way. The ooman female wanted more of this strange attention. Once again he felt his organ engorge, but this time he had the ability to evade such a response. Quickly he removed his finger from her, wiping off her tempting blood on her own thigh before he rose.

The ooman made a cry of frustration, cursing him with those two words she'd used before. Her unadorned feet kicked at his shins pitifully. His tusks spread; confused at the behavior, but more oddly…he wasn't as annoyed at the action as he would have expected.

"_Hulij-bpe oomahn…"_

"Yes…seijee human..." she butchered his language, but still…it gave him pause as he reached for his _awu'asa_. He smirked, one tusk tucked and lifted, as he gave the ooman a lingering look. Her heart rate was slowing, but it was still high enough to bake a _rjet_ hide.

"_Sei-I, hulij-bpe oomahn._"

* * *

By the time that warming euphoria had simmered, she found herself in something akin to a come-down; something she was only vaguely familiar with. The last ten – twenty – or however many minutes ago it had been – it all seemed so long ago…and so warped. She merely sat against the wall, legs out along the floor and hands in her lap as the alien beside her lifted and latched busted armor around his shoulders and waist.

Thinking about how close she'd been to enjoying an alien's 'equipment' was about as strange as the sensation of total and utter need she'd had for him. She hadn't been thinking of anything but the sweet anticipation of it all. At the time it was all she'd wanted – all she'd ever wanted – just for that one moment of fulfillment. So much so that she'd tried to fuck him herself…

All of a sudden she laughed; hysterically laughed at herself, as her fingers curled around each other. On and on she laughed, until it ran close to that of howling, but in the end she shuddered on silent hiccups. The alien to her side made those clicks again; uttered some word of his that she couldn't begin to wrap her mind around. The fear was gone though…maybe she'd run out of it? - or maybe…

"God-damnitt." Her body felt as if she'd been left to reside on the brink of release; a tension of astronomical proportions.

She didn't dare look up at him now, even when she felt him stand before her as if waiting for her attention – she looked away. No longer were his movements darting and impatient. Each step he took was measured and planned, even a little slow. There was still that urge to fling herself on him, but it was weaker now - if anything just a fleeting thought and not a logical action.

Finally she brought her head up; her vision blurred slightly thanks to her smashed glasses by the memory banks. His face was gone, covered by a richly curved mask with black mirrors which she knew he was watching her through. The metal looked worse for wear, but it was no question that it had some effect on the guy. She felt herself jump when he kneeled again, but her body didn't move as much as it ought to have. Something - from the long list of shit that'd happened this morning - made her limbs heavy and her eyes no better. Inside those oddly shaped eye-ports she could see herself projected - a mess. Sluggishly she closed her eyes, enjoying the fuzz of sleep...almost comforting. It all was ruined though - the happy fog, the clouds and the urging sleep - when her nose was grasped by his strong fingers and violently snapped back into place.

She gasped, paused in the sheer shock of it and then...promptly yelled. It was a stinging pain that traveled into her eyes, but one that brought relief gradually as the tears dried from around her lids. Her nose throbbed after that, still under his supportive fingers. It didn't take a medical tech to understand he'd just helped her; setting her nose straight, even if it was in a more brutal kind of manner.

Soon enough he was back at her side, crouching in what must have been his outfit before the company stripped him. She leaned back into her wall, feeling fresh blood leak from her nose, past her lips and off her chin as she watched him. He seemed to watch her just the same; studying her. Behind his mask she could hear a few inquisitive clicks. That must have been how he communicated – by those mandibles currently hidden from view.

There was a long pregnant pause, just the soft sounds of the banks 'beeping' and buzz of the lights until a wet sound broke the air. They both turned identical stares on the specimen jar she'd noticed before. Another juicy sound broke as the thing squiggled in its confinements. This action – by the thing – seemed to enrage the alien besides her. It was almost unreal how quickly he crushed the jar, grasping the helpless yet fierce leech. He squeezed the screeching creature in his hand – it had to have been some other sort of alien, possibly the Xenomorphs discovered near the Far Rimm just a few years ago. In her contract there was never a word about more than one alien in captivity…

_Bastards…_

A soft squirting noise preceded the explosion of the thing's deep yellow innards as he killed it; crushing it slowly, as if he were savoring the feel of it's small bones – or whatever it had – giving weigh under his grip.

When he turned to her sharply she pressed back into the wall, watching him as he dropped the now dead snake-like thing with little regard. Again he reached her, but he didn't kneel again…no…he brought her up to him by a powerful hand on her shoulder. His strength was massive; lifting her as if she weighed nothing at all. Still, his hand grasped the ball of her shoulder even as she stood, and yet…she felt no fear. A well of pride settled in her stomach and with it she dared a thin-lipped smile. An air of calm passed between them, and even though she couldn't understand his intentions or his words – a sense of understanding came across them. He wanted revenge, similar to her own goals. In those black mirror-like eyes she found a birth of appreciation…akin to respect, friendship…

He placed a hand on his netted chest, leaning down to her as he began to speak past the mask, "_Rah'aun-cte_." It all sounded like a series of grunts and clicks, but she found some syllables nestled in with the exotic noises. Though the word she managed to put together made her blanch momentarily. _Raunchy_?

She knew this part; this was the meet and greet – the same as she'd seen in countless alien movies as a young adult. As expected his hand came to her chest, pressing against her breasts in nothing but a passive manner. She took in a deep breath, feeling her chest squash against his unwavering hand, yes…whatever had possessed her before was still lingering judging by the pleasurable sensation it sent down her body.

"B-bauler…Ollie Bauler…", she gave her name, saying it slowly; partly for him and partly because her brain was more focused on his odd temperature seeping against her breasts than it was with speech.

He got it, though, uttering it in his own tone down back at her, "_Baw-lte, Auh'le Baw-ler…_", it sounded strange, but it was unmistakably her name coming from his deep set mask. The rumble from his throat penetrated her chest like that of an earthquake. His hand left her to return to his own chest – it was then he repeated his name to her again, waiting for her to repeat it back to him.

With a mild amount of hesitation, she rose her hand, watching him for any reaction as she brought it to the hand covering himself. His skin was warm; tacky and rough under her fingers. Lacking any form of confidence she spoke his name, "Raun…chy?" At that he grumbled; immensely displeased, as if he knew what that human word meant.

"…sorry. Ra-rawn'sit?", still he grumbled but it appeared he had little time to correct her, for he stood, leaving her as he walked to another blue-lit case. She muttered his name under her breath a few more times, never quite getting it right. Shards of glass hit the floor in a sound that was becoming too common as of late. She heard him assemble something; more noises of 'beeps' and gadget noises following. Taking a peek she noticed bracers being latched onto his forearms. A computer display blinked red, before going blank. A dashboard came up with off dashed symbols. Such alien technology must have been worth a large fortune…and to think they probably hadn't been able to work it since day one – the whole idea was oddly humorous.

Raunchy's clawed finger skated along the screen on his wrist as he turned towards her – the action making a strange rush of noise. He tapped in commands as he stalked towards her. It all reminded her of what she did every night, such a mundane task that she executed with open boredom.

A small cone sized device was ejected from a hole in his bracer; about the size of a pill. He plucked it from its stand between two fingers, pinching it delicately as he observed it in front of his mask. One coiled wire spun out of the tapered end, almost as thin as a human hair…then with a purpose to his steps he came to her. Something in his body language told her that the device was for her…and nothing about it screamed 'good time'. So when he grabbed for her she moved back. Again he tried, and she flung papers and beakers out of her way to escape him. It was silly to assume escape was possible, especially after all the times she tried, but it must have been instinct that had her doing it again and again until her back hit another wall. He knew she'd end up cornering herself; must have been why he only pursued her with those slow even steps each time she evaded his grasp.

Eventually, all things had to come to an end, and this was no different. Wherever he chose to plant that device, she'd get little say so.

A large hand grasped the side of her face; cradling and pulling at the same time to one side, craning her neck for his easy access. Her fear finally surfaced, almost welcomed in a way when he shoved the device – coil first – into her ear. Pain. She must have felt more pain today than ever in the past ten years, but it wasn't just pain. Seconds later - reverberating between her brain and her ear drum - was the deepest voice she'd ever felt.

"_The_ _sting will leave you soon, Auh'le Baw-ler_."

* * *

What say you? I've opened up a lot of possibilities in this chapter, any suggestions or comments? All this Yautja and Xenomorph slang is new to me, well...everything about this story is new to me really - so R&R would really be appreciated. I've felt good and bad about the way I've perceived Ms. Bauler (I fear making a dreaded MS again) what do you think? - and how about are tall, dark, and fearsome?

_**Yautja words**_

_Ooman – human_

_Lou-dte Kalei – child maker_

_hulij-bpe – crazy_

_pauk - fuck_

_n'dui'se – musk, smell, scent_

_nok – unit of measurement (13inch)_

_sain'ja-de - warriors_

_awu'asa – armor_

_dah'kte – wristblades_

_ki'cti-pa – combistick_

_sei-I – yes_

_rjet - herbivor_


	4. loose enough officer

Here is your weekend update, chapter four, beta-ed again by BelleInconnue (thanks chickedy) There's a nice bit of violence in this one, banter, cold showers and build up for the next chapter (which will have a nice little taste of the prowess from Rah'aun-cte)

Enjoy as always my readers.

* * *

Something was tickling her mind; sparks, vibrations and other neurological activity ignited along the surface of her brain. A voice - more known than heard - spoke to her. Never had she physically felt the shape of her brain inside her skull, but she did now; every depression and curve felt and familiar where before she'd known only fullness. Currents and waves flushed over her, but soon they were gone, leaving only a warm clotting feeling deep inside her ear. It was amazing, feeling her mind being reworked each time she heard his clicks and grunts. In her ear they still sounded foreign, but in her mind they were as clear as morning air.

"_Do not spoil yourself in the feeling, ooman. Let it fall to the rear of your mind._"

"It's…beautiful." she waned like a love-struck teenager, smiling drunkenly – only barely aware that he was indeed…laughing at her, but she could hardly be bothered. Her mind told her his laughter was that of amusement, not bloodlust. Again, she relished how his vocals skated across her mind as those alien tones and rumbles unraveled for her.

"_Soon, you will barely notice it_." But she did again when he spoke, and another smile broke out on her face as it tickled her where someone could only have dreamt before. The moment never seemed to break, even when a lab coat was tossed on her crudely from across the room.

"_Dress now tiny one, you must be cold. Your temperature is falling..._" The translation of his words came quicker than the last, barely taking long enough for her to enjoy the sensation of it's rendition. The meaning of his words brought her back into focus. Cold – yes she was, now that he mentioned it. She stared down at herself; naked and cut…and all by him. It was apparent though that her nudity did little for him...he showed no signs of arousal any longer - and in honesty, she found something frustrating about that.

The urge to question him rose, and when she lifted her head to him he was watching her steadily. "You drugged me somehow…didn't you?"

"_No. Prepared you, merely…but I will not mate you now, no matter how demanding your musk is. The temptation has been taken care of, for the moment._"

He tapped the side of his mask, indicating it; telling her it was the source that was keeping him in check. None of it really made much sense, even with this new handy piece in her ear. His words she could understand as English words, yet their meaning made little sense. As she pulled the lab coat on, buttoning it up to her neck slowly - she continued to question him, "A scent you said? Was it my blood?- or could it have been the toxi-"

"_Too many questions. We exact our revenge first, plenty of time for talk when we board my ship_."

She paused mid-way between slipping a button through it's clasp. A ship?…no one had mentioned an alien ship – though it appeared they told her little else besides what she needed for her job. The prospect of secret company information passing through rumors was a possibility, but never had she heard of anything so flamboyant...or maybe she had and simply found it of so little worth she'd forgotten completely. The wiggling alien was new as well; this ship was new…what else had Rodheim been doing here? Given the size of the complex the possibilities were endless. They could have had dozens of his species harboured underground, on the lower levels where no one would – wait…

"We? _We board_ the ship?" She would have added more to the question if he'd been a male human, but given what'd happened in the last hour...she wasn't going to make another stupid decision by fuming at him. Though her mercy wasn't appreciated - he merely grunted and clicked; probably just a noise since nothing sparked against her brain after the fact. Already she missed the sensation of his device's synthetic synapses firing off whenever he chose to speak. He'd been right...the feeling was already barely there, and the disappointment tripled when he spoke next and not more than a hair of electricity tickled. "_We have our dignity to reclaim first, then...if your ooman strength can keep up, _we_ will leave._"

The thought of revenge was sweet, indeed - yet however pitiful it sounded, she wasn't a fighter. She was a tech nerd; someone with nothing more than sixteen-hours of mandatory self-defense classes under the 'combat training' section of her resume. Honestly, she could only picture murdering Rodheim - some others may have been just as guilty, but a good portion of the people in the compound were the same as her; reaping an opportunity to work, with only survival in mind as they went about their responsibilities. She'd done her job just like everyone else - she hadn't done anything to try and free him...didn't want to either from the horror stories of what he did to the bison. As far as anyone had told her - he was a savage; a mindless alien that killed for pleasure. This all was too new...too different from what she'd thought she'd known for the last eleven months - or even all her life really

She watched him from the corner of her eye - seeing him turn a cylindrical device in his hands critically. She realized how stupid she must seem compared to him. All this time she'd assumed he was the junior species, yet here they were; she in a lab coat nearly losing herself in his translator, and him...reacquainting himself with his vastly superior technology - and to think she hadn't known he even wore clothes...

...not that the snug loincloth covered much.

The netting around his chest and legs was interesting though, it was something that should have reminded her of fish-net stockings, but for some reason she couldn't compare them in any way aside from their common pattern. The crisscrossed strings were not fabric, but some sort of coarse metal wire - it was hard to describe. At one angle the mesh shone, at another it looked - pliable? Odd.

When she finally left his chest he was watching her through the pits in his mask. He was looking from her to the cylindrical device in his hand. Back and forth he looked from her to it, as if piecing together ideas and their outcomes into one suitable conclusion. It appeared he'd come to one soon, for he stepped towards her, breaking the distance in just three wide paces.

"_You oomans have training. What say you? Your musk says you are...'warrior female'. Strong like a soldier._"

She made a choke that wanted to be a laugh but just didn't quite make it. Nevertheless, she kept a straight face after that, as he stared her down. He was serious; a nervous prospect. Honesty had to have been the best policy in this case. No white lies this time. "I...have minimal training, but I'm no soldier."

Clicks resounded behind the mask; something told her that the noise meant he was surprised, even baffled slightly.

"_You gave good chase though. Traits of a decent ooman soldier. You will fair fine amongst these fickle oomans_." She opened her mouth to speak as that grooved device of his was pushed to her chest gently, but he interrupted her swiftly, "_Think of them as practice for your moon-eyed elder._"

* * *

She was ooman- so already he had little hope of watching her slaughter dozens by his side, yet she would kill a few, he knew. With his _ki'cti-pa_, she'd have little trouble against the unarmed oomans. Before, _yin'tekai_ had restricted him from killing weaponless oomans. But they'd harmed him in other ways; ways that he could guiltlessly kill them for now.

Rah'aun-cte purred in approval as she took his _ki'cti-pa_ in her small ooman hands - those large dull eyes of hers were scanning his weapon in awe. A pinch of pride at her immense look of admiration struck his center - it'd been too long since someone reputable had appreciated his belongings in such a way. Perhaps she would enjoy his trophy room once they boarded - the prospect excited him immensely, and soon he found himself impatient with her fervent stare.

She would help him, and then if she proved worthy he could mate her once they were on his ship, with little remorse afterwards. Her _n'dui'se_ was still just as exciting as the hunt ahead of them was - it would be a reward on top of a reward, that is...as long as he could see her take one life today. Revenge would be sweet indeed.

"The locking mechanism on this is facin-...ahahShit!" She'd grazed her fingers over both ends with just the right pressure, extending both ends to their full length in a matter of ooman-milli-seconds. The action obviously shocked _Awh-le Baw-ler_; an ugly yet humorous sight. Hunting oomans on specialized game preserves never allowed him an opportunity to observe them at such a close proximity, especially one expressing such little fear of him. It felt strange having an ooman beside him, just maneuvering his weapon in her hands - the feeling was unfamiliar, but not loathsome. He watched her marvel in his species technology; so much more advanced than hers.

His left tusk curled as the ooman thrust his _ki'cti-pa_ to her right; jutting the shorter end of the spear experimentally. Slowly - as if reaching for a skittish hound, Rah'aun-cte pulled her arm in his hand. As expected, she pulled her arm back quickly, looking up at him with her large-wide eyes. Fear; she was fearful finally. Softly he purred at her, watching her skin flush like his crest would if he were angry. When he growled, she loosened her arm, allowing him to pull her elbow down to her side; tucking the bend and pulling her forearm outwards gently. She seemed to understand his goal; moving with him - if a bit hesitantly. Once he'd positioned her arm properly he spoke, "_Now_..._stab from your waist._" She did - yet it was wobbled from beginning to end. She wasn't confident in her action, and only her arms and shoulders seemed to move.

"_No...move your waist...",_ roughly he grasped her hips and turned them in a half circle. Her ooman mouth opened but she did not make a sound, _"...move as you stab. Your hips need to turn as well. Whole body._"

He released her, pushing her into a more spacious part of the room as he backed away slowly, waiting as she skirted on her feet to the center of the room - it was then that she stabbed, but not stopping there – she then brought the tip down from a curved arch until it resting down from her hip. He trilled at how setg'-in she seemed; watching her hips rest from their swivel and her knees straighten from a bend. She was a quick learner; something he was more relieved of, than grateful for.

"_Good enough_." He would not praise her unless she used that tactic to slay an ooman. For now, he could see what she did with one of these ooman glass bowls that were littered everywhere.

"_Use 'that' on 'those'_." Rah'aun-cte pointed to a tabletop, perched against a far wall with half a dozen large beakers in sets of neat rows. He had no doubt she could do it, even if she was clumsy (which he hadn't thought she was), but he wanted to see her do some damage with that fluid precision he'd seen just now – it would be a reassuring sign. "_Stab one. Slash the rest_."

She may have looked resistant at first, but yet again she did not speak – she followed his orders; another good quality in such a small ooman female. Rah'aun-cte watched steadily as she moved over to take her stance, bending her knees and pulling the spear at her side tightly. "_Release the tension with your stab, regain it before your swing then release it once more._" – and she did…with little to no error. The first beaker shattered in a ripple of triangular-shaped glass shards. The following five others caved into themselves as the spear slashed through them, leaving their bottoms nearly intact while the tops toppled over in poorly-sorted pieces.

Her flat-face turned to him quickly - the _ki'cti-pa_ still held sharp to her side after her last swing. She was waiting for his response, but he only looked at her as her body thrummed with quick breaths. The _n'dui'se_ was stronger now, distracting him once again - no longer faint anymore as he'd been able to bear. Her actions must have stirred it_._ Perspiration filled his mask quicker than it could be filtered out, as his tusks quivered and his breath quickened.

Slowly, before he spoke he purred, showing her his approval before her confidence was broken, "_You must take care of your musk before we begin. Ooman males do not have the discipline we Yautja do…I do not need distractions…and playing witness to your ooman mating would be one more distraction_."

"…it doesn't work like that, Raunchy."

That stupid ooman word again. A bubble of irritation rose in his gut, but he merely grumbled and turned away from her to the shelves and drawers, hoping to find more of his supplies. Hopefully, she would be intelligent enough to go about her business and find the things she needed without trouble. He couldn't smell much else but her, and once he switched to his thermals, the matter was settled – they were alone for now. Rah'aun-cte heard her feet as they bounded across the floor. She left the room soon after, leaving him to swipe clutter from the shelves, shattering things loudly with reckless abandonment.

He hoped to find his suture-kit…and his rings. His locks felt weightless against his shoulders; an uncomfortable feeling after being a blooded warrior for so many decades.

Rah'aun-cte kept his thermal sights on, giving the room a sweep every so often to see where _Auh'le Baw-ler_ had gone to. She seemed fine; occupied in a hallway a few rooms down, no other oomans near – so he trilled and went back to his methodic search.

* * *

Room after room came up empty - yet she didn't expect any different. The only thing she'd feel comfortable fighting in would have been a dreaded tampon...and that would only be found in the dormitory level of the compound. Even searching the bathrooms was a fruitless pursuit. Raunchy had shredded her underwear, her pants and the bottom half of her shirt...tissue paper wasn't going to save her this time, but she did find a safety shower, nestled close to the lab in an equipment room. The faucet was surrounded by stacks of moldy boxes that smelt thick and damp. At the very least, feeling un-soiled had to have been a positive thing.

Bauler kicked the lab coat to the far corner, hooking one finger around the O-ring of the dangling switch; ready for the rain of cold, hard water.

Freezing cold water...it would have been welcomed with open arms, if she hadn't needed to hold the chain down for the shower to keep functioning. The cold seemed to freeze everything; her body, her brain, and even time. It could have been hours, minutes or seconds that she spat water off her top lip; breathing from a gaping mouth as the flood of rough water washed over her. In here; in this chemical shower - aliens didn't find humans sexually appealing, they didn't shove devices in their ears, they didn't give their weapons away to a human to use...they didn't even exist - not under the water, they didn't. Even when the cold started to prickle her skin, the world stayed just as serene as it'd been before she grew up. The world could be a beautiful and happy place in the eyes of a child - so she pretended for as long as she could.

The moment should have lasted all of eternity, until her bones withered and she fell to her death, but fate had other plans for her; an alien had other plans for her. Her skin had been so cold and numb, that the feeling of Raunchy's hand around her arm felt like nothing more than a minor nuisance, even with the sound of her bones grinding together against his grip. The world came back all too quickly. The change in temperature around her had been so abrupt she'd moaned in the shock to her skin.

"_I could end you now if you wish it Auh'le Baw-ler. Is this what you choose now, to freeze?_"

She didn't speak, couldn't really with how her chest quivered; a shiver that never made it to her limbs, as if it was too deep a cold to bother with her extremities. How long had she been under?

"_I can see your heat, or in this case, your lack of. So tell me, oomahn. I can make it swift for you..._"

A shudder of muscle tension exploded when she opened her mouth to speak; teeth finally banging together roughly as her body came to it's senses and realized it did indeed need friction to get her blood flowing swiftly again. She managed a noise - one that was similar to a 'no' but not quite enough to convince him. She felt more than heard him growl - it was a rumble, like that of a fighter-jet miles away.

"..n.n...no."

"_Very well._" His textured hand let her go, leaving an imprint of stark white against her frozen-red skin. It was slightly nerve wracking how she hadn't felt it this whole time, but the evidence was there; evidence that he hadn't gone easy on her 'weaker' human body. A stark wave of fear jolted down her stomach. The brief fancy of what could have been - if not for him catching sight of his mask before that final moment - was arousing and terrifying.

"_Do something about your musk, or I will._"

When all she did was stutter with her quivering jaw he began an uproar of purring, thrilling the middle of her abdomen into small spasms; eliciting a warm and pleasurable sensation. It worked, she supposed - as it settled her speech impediment - but the heat that pooled between her legs was unwelcome. "Stop it..." She managed to gripe, but it only served to heighten the noise, and at the same time heighten the feeling, "...not again."

Now she was quaking for a different reason; one more shameful than that of the indulgent and hindering shower. "The things I need...they're not here, in there-in the west side of the compound on Level C." She choked suddenly; fearful of the feeling she now knew awaited her. Bauler grit her teeth, thrusting a surprisingly strong curled-fist to the center of his stomach. "Oh god...stop that fucking thing!" He did, ceasing the purring instantly and cocking his head downwards to stare at her fist as it pressed into his muscles. Those dreads slipped more heavily about his shoulders. It was now that she noticed the tarnished gold rings fitted perfectly in sets of threes around each long dread, making the color of them seen so much darker than before.

However unwanted his purring had been - it relinquished the cold quickly and effortlessly, but turning her soul perturbed rather than grateful. Her scowl seemed to translate judging by the sharp grunt she heard behind the mask. "_Use your 'newfound' ability to speak and we will find your belongings as you helped me find mine._"

There had been a flitter of electricity along her temple; the first noticeable sensation from the translator since his last words inside the lab - it told her the beginning of his sentence had been mildly sardonic. It wasn't that she understood any part of his technology, but how it managed to pinpoint even the tone of his words was even more of a mystery - yet she wished he'd do it again, just so she could feel that beautiful tingle inside her brain once more.

She'd been slightly lost in the lingering traces along her mind, huffing in surprise when Raunchy draped the lab coat over her head like she was nothing more than a coat rack. He turned from her, lowering the hand that must have held the lab coat; chuckling deeply within her skull as he stopped outside in the hallway, waiting for her patiently...

...and to think this giant humanoid had been chasing her just an hour or so ago. Again that surreal feeling found it difficult to leave her alone, cropping back up and peaking just before she fell into hysteria.

"There will be more humans you know," she muttered as he bowed his head, agreeing as she shrugged the coat on before retrieving the spear from a stacked crate to her side, "...and they will be doing the same thing as me; getting their belongings, even looting others." Again he agreed with the slightest gesture of his head.

"_Then let us hurry. If your oomahn males react to your musk as I, then we cannot afford to wait until the last one falls to stifle your heat_."

"It doesn't work like that...I told you. If-if anything they avoid us at this...specific time." _Or we avoid them...a combination if anything really._

"_Avoid? Withdraw? How you oomahns mate is beyond my understanding..." _He appeared to laugh at this, amused greatly about something he'd put together in his mind; something she was too distracted to question him about. Raunchy, despite everything, seemed eager and in high spirits; murder on his mind, and here she was barely keeping together the single hair-line of her sanity. _"...perhaps a topic for later, when we are done purging this place._" Had his tone just been insinuating...?

She began the lead, hearing him click, but feeling his words translated as he lingered behind; contemplating to himself aloud at the drawbacks her species had to his own, especially in some things that seemed so sensible to him...like that of his species' mating compared to that of the lower 'oomahns'. She would have protested if he had not been right about most of his assumptions...

Level B - down three hallways and two flights of stairs - was dark. The lights were out aside from the emergency bulbs down the ends of each corridor, casting the walls in a hellish shade. It would have been all the more terrifying if Raunchy hadn't been trailing close behind her. Ever so often he'd make strange sounds; like that of electrical discharge, but then he'd click - as if catching onto her nerves - just to reassure her.

Only when they reached the elevator banks - just before her office - did she then turned to tell him she'd be right back. Her vision had been bearable at best since her glasses had shattered, but being so close to her office was the chance to see a little bit better. Her eyes searched for him in the dark, but she realized...he was gone. Bauler froze; eyes darting in her head as a vice of fear gripped her chest. He was gone, disappeared, vanished...left her alone with his heavy fucking stick in her hands. The idea of solitude, in this normally active compound, made the hairs on her arms straighten as if the air was a static.

"...Raunchy..?", she uttered it softly, still aware of the fact that they were supposed to be sneaking around - 'together', not alone.

"_A foul oomahn word. Your tongue is able to pronounce my name...so do it_."

The clicks she heard in her ears were sounding beside her - so close that she could almost feel the air wheezing out of his mask, but...where was he? The situation was more odd than it was frightening, which was welcomed for a brief moment as her eyes slipped along a slight break in the air. The movement looked similar to water on glass...or like the sun highlighted by a ripple in a pond. "Is...that's you isn't it?" She pushed a hand out, expecting to pass through the mirage, but instead abruptly met that solid chest instead - the feeling akin to taking a stair step that was never really there. Raunchy rumbled deeply, vibrating her hand all the way to her elbow as if confirming it was indeed him - confirmation for a 'scared and stupid oomahn female'. She frowned slightly, casting her eyes aside.

"_Keep moving, I will be close by._"

She didn't dawdle any longer, feeling as impatient as he did by now, as she opened the door to her office - it was the same as how she'd left it. The stale coffee and empty styrofoam cup of noodles still sitting at her desk. Her terminals however - once she'd stepped further into the room - had been smashed. The black thick pieces of monitor glass were sunken in, sparks still popping deep inside their cases like tiny stars in the sky. Someone must have done it recently.

Bauler took a glance back, barely catching the distortion in the air that was her alien 'friend'. She pulled her chair out, watching more shards of glass fall and smash into smaller sections as they hit the floor. Why they'd destroyed her computer she'd probably never know - it wasn't as though the data on it was important or even private information. In case of an investigation, no one could have linked the data on her computer to that of an alien bio-habitability project. Easily, with little thought, someone could say they were growing hybrid pull-beans...not housing an ET.

"_Your quarters are small, even too small for you._"

"This is my office...not that my room is much bigger. Just, I need something...give me a second." Raunchy grunted behind her as she cleared the glass from her seat before sitting down. In the left drawer was her contact lenses, ones that were less effective than her glasses, and much more uncomfortable, but it was either this or pray that Level C still had power. She popped each one in, blinking back the sharp sting and natural tears that came with the intrusion. Behind her, Raunchy trilled, even stepped closer but never spoke as she rubbed her eyes deeply with her knuckles.

She could see now - blurry - but better than before. With one quick gesture she reached behind her monitor and yanked out a tiny mB-box; holding it up to her eyes before smirking lightly and tucking it in her lab coat. The dice-sized, black cube was the terminals backup drive, essentially. And there was no harm in swiping it before she left, especially if someone had gone through the trouble of smashing her babies (though whoever did destroy the screens weren't too bright to leave the mB-box behind). Perhaps this housed another one of those tid-bits the company never told her about. Even if it didn't, it sure wouldn't hurt to have it around.

"_There are oomahns close, one male and one female..._"

"Then get rid of them...", she turned with a short scowl which dropped instantly, "Hey...where'd you go?" No shimmer, no nothing, he was gone this time and she was left standing in her office with his spear in one hand and footsteps echoing closer from the elevators. Dumbfounded and gradually getting stickier between the legs she clenched her teeth together suddenly; a wave of indignation creeping up. '_Thats right, relish the anger, Ollie. Use it to get your scrawny ass outta' this hell hole...and then you can go to Florida like you'd planned. Sit in the sun and bake to death until aliens and their mountain-sized cocks become nothing more than a distant nightmare.'_

"Alien bastard..." For a moment she waited for a response - nothing. Surely the honorable Raunchy would have defended himself, at least made some kind of less juvenile comment back at her? Still there was silence aside from the closing footsteps. A light - belonging to an industrial maglight - broke the darkness, bobbing from down the hallway until it shown it's rays into her office, landing right against her chest. Bauler winced, placing one curling hand over her brow as the light glued itself to her.

"Hey! This area's been evacuated! What are you doi-..hoollly shit!" The figure (male, if going by the deep voice) was invisible thanks to the maglight arching into her eyes, but as the angle of light was lowered - grazing as low as her feet - she noticed two horrified expressions, both staring down between her feet and along her legs. Bauler knew before the girl even spoke what it was they were looking at - her blood.

"It's the enviro-technician...the one the ET captured...how, how are you alive?" The girl was edging closer, lowering the light as she drug her feet as if approaching a wounded animal. Who knew what horrible things were going through the girl's mind; what she assumed the blood was from...or the state of her irritated red-wet eyes and the enclosed spear at her side.

"Officer Conrad, we...we gotta bring her back. Look at her. She needs medical attention." Finally the girl placed a hand around Bauler's arm; a comforting and delicate gesture that was only meant to show she wasn't going to harm her. The man still in the hallway, now shrouded in darkness, had eyes unlike the girl's. He was staring at Bauler's face, then the puddle at her feet and then back up to Bauler and the girl as she soothed her with 'everything will be alrights'.

Bauler kept her mouth shut - to the point of pain really. Her teeth scraped together dangerously as she kept that uncomfortable eye contact with the glaring man in the shadows. He knew something that the girl currently wrapping an arm around her shoulders didn't.

"Ms. Harrison...she's got one in her. Look at the blood and her eyes..." His mouth was moving but his eyes never left Bauler's. He was lying to the girl, but about what Bauler didn't know. "You know what we have to do, it's for her sake as much as ours." His words were so full of mock concern that how the girl holding her didn't notice was astounding.

"How can you say that? Look at her...she's managed to survive this long, and who's to say she's got one of those things in her? You?" The sweet-until-now-girl turned condescending and seething as her grip tightened on Bauler's arm, "You're not a fucking doctor, are you? - and you're entertaining _that_ idea? Seriously?"

Under her breath, the girl mumbled a rotten curse to the man, but smiled reassuringly up at Bauler. The girl was short, with beautiful big brown eyes and tangled brown hair. Cheek bones the size of golf balls graced each side of her eyes making her look like some Greek goddess of the air. This smile the girl gave; a smile that made it all the way to the tops of her eyes was still gracing her features when a bullet shot through her cheek, exiting just along her right temple to splatter blood, brain and sharp bits of skull all along Bauler's shoulder and face.

There was indeed a span of time that seemed to go on forever; a moment where the blood and goop slid off Bauler's cheek so slowly that it threatened to drive her insane. What had just happened, could not have happened...because the girl was still standing - her grip was still firm on Bauler's arm, but...that arm around her shoulder was dropping; sliding off her and soon...the girl's body fell to the floor as softly as a dead woman could manage.

Slowly, Bauler turned her head, eyes following to the man in the shadows - a gun lifted in the air, still expelling small lines of curling smoke from it's barrel. There was no shame, no remorse or guilt in this man's eyes. He'd committed the ultimate sin, not murder necessarily being the worst, but betrayal. Back down beside her feet lay the dead girl; blood pooling in thick black streams by her open head.

"I doubt you've got a bug in there.", he waved the gun in a sharp jerk as if indicating to her stomach before continuing, "But I bet you've got something just as horrible. Rodhiem said you'd be dead...but this- why...this is even better. Here you are, and here I am. You with a baton, and me with a gun."

He stepped closer to her, keeping the silenced 44LR pointed right between her eyes. The mole under his left eye looked familiar; a feature she'd caught on one of the two armed guards in the observation deck before everything went to hell. This man currently pressing the tip of a gun to her forehead was one of those cocksuckers.

"Give the thing something to fuck and you got yourself some priceless alien spunk." He said it as if he were convincing a male co-worker of the idea. "The fact that you've lived to tell about it is as impressive as it is sad. Hope you haven't scooped it all out, or we'll have to give the freak a two-fer. You might not be so lucky the second time around either...bet he ripped you up good and loose..."

His breath stunk against her face. Obviously he didn't mind being so close to the spilled brains on her face as he rubbed the tip of the gun deeper into her forehead. As his lips curled, grinning like the devil himself - she skated her thumb over the button, already with her second finger on the other. It was all too tempting to apply just the right amount of pressure and really see what a man looked like when something sharp and serrated cut through his bowls like butter, but the impalement wouldn't kill him right away - he'd probably have enough time to blow her brains out all over her terminals before she could enjoy the moment of vengeance.

"So...where is it? Where is your boyfriend, huh?" The smile he gave her was something she'd only seen in horror movies - as if the man had practiced it in the mirror every morning before he took his first piss of the day.

A glitter of light caught her eye, but she kept her eyes straight - the air vibrated beside her, purring for her tenderly. He was back; Raunchy was back, and it was now - as the man hooked a finger in her lab coat to take a lecherous peek - that she knew just how the next few seconds were going to play out - it was like deja vu, but not entirely.

A near invisible hand reached out with excessive speed, snapping the man's arm towards the ceiling. The bones, she heard shatter one by one, and it urged some black coiling leech of lust to grow within her. Before his cry of pain ended, her heart leapt just as her fingers clenched on the release - the spear (hooked edges and all) thrusting straight through his navel to crush his spine in less than half a second. Stifled gun fire ignited twice, releasing gusts of plaster from the shot up ceiling as the man's throat contracted audibly with silent screams. Somewhere between it all, she heard a deeply satisfied noise beside her; one that soothed the inside of her mind as much as it fueled the desire for violence.

It was all over with very quickly - his death wasn't as long and drawn out as her sadistic side had hoped for, but the result was the same. With another more elegant press of her fingers the spear retracted, pulling out serrated meat and organ matter with it. The man fell and that was that. Everything seemed oddly the same. Two people lay dead around her feet, one killed because of her and the other killed by her - and yet she felt fine. 'Shock' was what she told herself; it was just shock, and soon she'd fall to her knees begging for forgiveness as she sobbed her sorrows away.

Minutes passed and she still felt little, even while she witnessed Raunchy's form ripple into sight. His mask was off (odd); perched against his hip glaringly as he kneeled down to her victim. Never had she thought she'd enjoy the sight of his ghastly features, but at this moment they were pleasant. Something about this was wrong though; his mask being off that is...wasn't he suppose to...Bauler blinked fruitlessly at him. He was eye level now even while kneeling. Those large lower mandibles were tucked in but curved, as if he were grinning up at her. His eyes were bright and admiring in the darkness. Bauler, in turn, had started to smile herself - that is until she saw Raunchy sever the man's head from his shoulders with one hefty chuck of his bulging arm. Blood gushed from the stub now, but the sight was just as appalling as watching it on someone's vid-screen; gross maybe, but not overtly shocking.

"_We will clean him for you later - a worthy enough trophy for your first kill_."

After everything else, it was almost silly that his words were what made her finally vomit.

* * *

There it is, and soon I'll be saying the same about the next chapter. Hope this was pleasant even without the dirty bits (sexy bits), but we'll have a bit of those next chapter any-who. Review if you find the time, it does more than put a smile on my face - it makes the story better when I get your feedback, suggestions, and issues. (praise is also good too though! not dissin' the praise at all)

Thanks for reading, as always hope you enjoyed it!

_**Yautja words**_

_Ooman - human_

_n'dui'se – musk, smell, scent_

_setg'-in - quick  
_

_ki'cti-pa – combistick_

_yin'tekai - honor  
_


	5. huston we have a problem

Sorry for the two week long wait (i had a sunny beachy spring break and also wrote a long...story too...sorry) anyways this is up now. It's highly filthy and depraving for me to have written it - let alone for you all to be reading it (for shame) ENJOY!

Warning for sexual content and gore (language too...)

Do not own Predator or Alien...

* * *

It took little more than two minutes for the burning bile to finish making its way up her throat. Half of the coffee/noodle-sludge was swallowed back down after her throat gave a painful jolt from the contractions wriggling up from her belly. Bauler felt his eyes on her just as much as she felt a particularly solid piece of gore slip off the center of her cheek as she held her knees in her hands in a downwards lunge, preparing for another bout of vomit in case it decided to come up again. She hated vomiting nearly as much as Rodhiem at this moment…along with the dead man at her feet; who currently had her sick covering his neck and chest – it was fitting, despite how disgusting it was – the bastard deserved it and…she took pleasure in it (although not as shamefully as she would have liked).

Quickly – after the office stopped churning - she huddled away from the sight, backing herself up against the divot in her L-shaped desk as her breath came back to her with the help of a dozen gulps of air. Each breath brought in the acrid smell of vomit, but it was worth it just to feel the smallest bit less faint.

Her ears had still been ringing when she spat out the residue in her mouth; barely registering the heavy bass-like purr creeping between her ribs.

Raunchy's presence was close, but she'd already shut her eyes (with little thought of reopening them) moments ago. The darkness behind her eyelids darkened further as the first pangs of his humid breath eased along her throat. Even in this moment of post-retching Bauler knew now what had been so odd about seeing his mask-less face – he'd needed it to keep away from her, and now….as she grasped the edge of her desk behind her – he was going to turn into the monster she'd ran from before. The idea – in hindsight – may not have been so terrible if she wasn't cornered in her tiny office with the smell of death and puke filling her nostrils. A shameful and disgusting side of her had been entertaining what things Raunchy could uncoil within her – they all ended with a sharply suggestive expression igniting on her face. But the idea and the reality of such an act were completely different, and no matter how much the wanton side of her enjoyed the idea she couldn't help how her body lurched at the feel of his warmth searing besides her. The two bodies by their feet didn't turn her on as much as she assumed it did Raunchy…

"Raun-…Rah'n'chtt-t…you- your mask, put it back on."

"_Mmyyyy maaahssk_…", a tiny charge startled her brain as he growled, forcing her eyes to snap open – only to come face to face with his spread mandibles and sharp dripping teeth. His breath flooded against her face; raw and moist – it wasn't the best smell in the world, but anything was better than the stench of her own vomit. Saliva leaked from the corners of his large-lower mandibles; clicking in rhythm with his purrs. The sight of him now wasn't as horrifying as it had been – she knew what she was in for to say the least…not that the knowledge made her any more equip when her backside was squished into the desk by his much wider hips.

There it was – the outline of a barely constrained and very large erection, pressing near painfully into her stomach.

That frightful warmth surged up her legs and into her belly, centering on exactly where his hardness burned into her. His rough purrs did nothing but fuel the wrongness of the desire as it settled into ever fiber that had ever known want.

The moment she had of rationale – as brief and waning as it was – allowed her to reach around him, searching out the tie holding his mask at his hip; desperately trying to find a way around this turn of events. Raunchy seemed oblivious; his luring noises increasing as one of his large mitts grasped her neck almost tenderly. A lump of something hard formed in her throat as he tilted her backwards, pressing her against the edge of one of her destroyed terminals. A few pieces of glass rubbed dangerously into her spine; teasing almost.

Bauler's hands still groped for something that – as far as she knew – wasn't even there…her search was more than likely useless.

With a thumb on her chin Raunchy turned her head sideways, bringing his maw along her shoulder, sucking in the air around her as he'd done before. Once again she was reminded of how his acts and purrs did nothing but urge her against him - not to flee, but to literally grind along the desire between his own legs. The lure of his sounds would have been the envy of any man. Who knew anything could have made her body hot in a room of stiffening corpses…

The world wasn't as hopeless as she feared when one of her nails bent back in a small shock of pain as it slipped along a certain clasp; the clasp that carried enough hope for her to cry out in relief, but relief (like luck) just wasn't meant for her.

A deep roar was the only warning she got before her legs were ripped apart and her body shoved atop the desk. He'd pulled a muscle in her thigh; enough to make her squeal again like a tortured animal. Whatever his customs of sex were, they obviously had little relation to her own…aside from…the obvious. The action had pulled her reassured hands from their goal - now they worked just to keep his body from her own, as he started lowering to one knee; claws squeezing into the meat of her hip and thigh.

Another desperate ploy had her attempting to press him down, as if climbing on top him, but even her feigned consent did little to budge him. So she did the last thing she thought would work…she begged.

"…p..please…", but it was funny how little she got out before his intentions struck her silent.

"Fuck.", she hissed as his hot breath wafted between her legs. "I don't want this…I- I don't…ohhh oh god.", an impossibly long and narrow tongue slipped from his throat - the same thing that'd wrapped around her throat before, but now…it wasn't at her throat. Bauler was too shocked to vocalize how his slippery tongue felt as it slid along her bloody inner thigh, cleaning her delicately while getting closer and closer to her sex. She winced, biting a thin part of her upper lip as one mandible scratched against the side of her knee. Bauler wasn't even trying to kick him away at this point – it was a terrible thing; her bodily needs and her straitlaced conscience…both working for their own wants.

This wasn't about whether her body was responsive to him or not anymore – that wasn't even up for debate – but this was about how wrong it all should be. That tongue though…once it plunged inside of her – expanding sharply like a crawling larvae once it tickled the back of her…even the better side of her lost the battle.

It hurt in a way; the tenderness inside of her still present despite the ripple effect his engorging appendage gave.

As she closed her eyes; slumped back against her terminal with a bead of spit threatening to slip out the corner of her mouth – she could only hope something improbable would happen…because that was the only way this wouldn't end with the inevitable. The thickening-thinning-thrusting tongue was horribly good.

A brief memory of sneaking around her aunt's room – finding her stash of laughable pornorgraphy surfaced through the haze of pleasure - the vids had glorified the N-M alien's 'endowments' (the second known intelligent life outside of the solar system…at least at the time), and this being something she'd blushed and chuckled about after the fact was now presently chuckling back at her. A rumble of amusement, arousal, and pride somehow came out of Raunchy's throat, even while he retracted his tongue from her…only to push it back in with another raucous sound. The sounds he made - so complex in their tenor that each time he growled a faint spark from the translator added another serene level to the feedback.

Nothing about this seemed immoral anymore; hadn't seemed so for the past minute or two, regardless of how three of his claws were already buried half an inch inside her thigh. Blood was warm and wet as it slipped in rivulets down the curve of her leg, but she was too far gone to care about the audible drips it made. The closer she got to release the more it all...just felt right.

"Yeaahss…goood'gahd.", she sighed and mewled. He answered her, but not even the translator – for all its flickering merit – could begin to decipher it.

"Shit!", a pang of dull pleasure resonated through her thighs, curling her toes stiffly as the expansion of his tongue continued forth; wetting her clit before the whole length of it left her with a squelching sound.

Through slitted eyes she could see his bloody tongue swirl back down his throat, but not before lapping at his teeth, marring them in her red blood like some kind of sick display. With the darkness of the office, the haze behind her eyes, and the fact that vision wasn't even fourth to the fact that'd she'd been left close to the brink yet again.

"_It tastes as good as it smells..._", quickly his tongue darted out to fill her again, shoving past any resistance her muscles gave and churning inside like some fleshy corkscrew. The back of her head slipped along the face of her terminal, bumping against the cut she'd received during the chaos, but it barely throbbed once before her abdomen tensed almost painfully. Tears leaked at the corners of her eyes as his tongue brought her to a hard and bitter climax.

Immediately her body became sore; forgoing any post euphoria she'd normally get after such a violent orgasm. Bauler choked softly; holding in uncomfortable groans as he kept searching and rubbing her walls raw.

Another flicker of an orgasm showed itself, settling somewhere deep and hidden; terrifying her to the point that she almost howled before pushing drastically against the inflamed crest of his forehead. For a second she forgot the tongue inside her and just ran her hands over the prickly texture of his crest – the spikes, the ridges, and the bumps. They were exotic enough for her to forget a moment that she'd been trying to get away from him.

Raunchy did indeed withdraw from her eventually, but it wasn't for any mercy - she knew. The sharp look in his small eyes - as the now limp tongue slowly pulled itself back into his throat - was all she needed to know what he'd had in store for her.

He didn't disappoint in that regard; proving her right as he growled, flipping her over so suddenly that the vertigo made her nauseous once again. That now familiar thump clogged her throat, making it difficult to breathe her way through the panic that the noises of him shifting his clothing away brought.

"Not now...not now, later please - but god! - not now!", she begged quietly (more to her white knuckled hands than him) - no smart words came to mind...only 'please's' and 'no's', and they didn't work.

"_No latur._ _Nooowww..._"

One heavy hand pressed her chest into her keyboard by way of the divot between her shoulder blades. Each key dug into her sternum like little bullets through the svelte lab coat. Another hand shoved the now tarnish whites of the coat up her middle-back until both his hands were pinning her where she lay; panting and terrified on her own fucking desk. It was ironic in a way - that she'd be ripped open by the alien she'd kept comfortable at this very desk for almost a year...in fact...she almost laughed, but an unduly thick cock started pushing fruitlessly into her small body with little time for her to relish in quick chuckles.

Nothing in life had prepared her for the agony he brought upon her; at no point in her life had she been with a man over average-size and right now...it seemed extremely stupid for her to have passed up that well-hung track runner in highschool...

This was what pain was.

The burn - _oh god the fucking burning_ - it was abnormal. Those tears before - that had sited along the brim of her eyelashes - now flowed freely down her cheeks, pooling under her face as more and more of his cock worked its way inside her. Whenever a part of their skin stuck as he pushed forward - he only growled and gave her a stiff buck before resuming the process of stretching her open. The way he forced himself further inside was methodical...if not cruel.

A small sting caught her attention, as if a part of her had torn. The whole time she remained silent - the pressure and the burn so intense that she couldn't bring herself to speak...let alone scream.

After what seemed like hours he stopped - and only when she felt that her eyes may threaten to pop from their sockets at how incredibly full she felt – did she open them.

Thick clouds of hot breath tickled past her hair and against her scalp. A mandible even teased at the curve of her ear as she collapsed with her cheek melting into the pile of her own tears. He was in as far as he could go - she knew. Raunchy didn't seem like the kind to stop until he couldn't physically go any farther. It didn't even appear as though he knew how much pain he'd just caused her. His comforting purrs and delicate scratches only proved her suspicions. Everything he did after sheathing himself inside her seemed to have one goal; sooth her.

"...nngn.", she winced as a strong twitch inside her disturbed whatever part of her had ripped. Never before had Bauler entertained fucking on her period, even looked down on women that had...and now here she laid with a massive cock locked inside of her. A bustling of uniquely toned purrs and growls filled her ears. A fuzz settled in along her spine and in her ears. This - these purrs - weren't speech, but the translator pick up the emotions of gratitude, of satisfaction and of pride...all boiled into one lengthy rumble that rippled from the epicenter between her ribs through out her whole body. Anything besides the pain was welcomed...and this; this was a relief - so much so that she smiled lightly...at least until her inner flesh was drug backwards as he pulled out of her.

"_You...feel this...Auh'le...Baw-ler. I feeeel...thiiissss. Both - we feel thisss._"

Bauler couldn't tell anymore; couldn't tell up from down at this point - let alone his tone as he ushered with strong purrs against the back of her neck. One of his large clawed-hands curled around the bend of her shoulder, anchoring her as he withdrew from her body. She could feel him shudder as he paused before pushing slowly back in with a growl.

The only sound she could manage was a choked cry as he halted inside her for the second time - only a few inches deep and still…so full...

"_Feeel_...", he spoke it and indeed she felt it; she felt everything when his hips sharply bucked forth, burying himself inside so quickly she saw purple fireworks before her eyes. An agonized sound managed to seep past the mass in her throat; making a noise similar to the last utterance of one who's throat has just been slit. His purrs did nothing now - the thought of 'dying with pleasure' was far from true. No longer could she give into the warmth his sounds attempted to force within her - it hurt too much for that.

Her fist curled as he started a brutish rhythm; deep and quick enough to have her chest lifting off her keyboard, despite how his hands aimed to keep her still. One of her fingers split open against a thick shard of glass as his thrusts moved her back and forth; body working hypocritically to keep him in and then keep him out. Blood coated her hand, gathering and flowing swiftly as her fingers curled around the thick shard; knowing exactly what she was going to do with this handy weapon.

"..y-yes."

* * *

"_Yessss..._"

Her small body was succulent around his girth - so much so that he regretted waiting until now to take her up on her temptation. The _n'dui'se_ of her only grew and grew the longer he rejected her; telling him that she grew desperate and hungry for a male. She may have been ooman, but her body felt the same as his females...but hotter and almost painfully snug. Auh'le's_ thwei_ wasn't even enough to make his entrance smooth, but sure enough, by each measured thrust she would uncoil around him - at least long enough to ease inside of her a bit easier the next time around.

She made little noise however; something that began to unsettle him. His females made sure to vocalize just what they wanted from him; how they felt and how they wanted him - Auh'le Baw-ler made no such demands, no such noises and no body cues for him to follow by. It must have been an ooman trait; to remain so distant and quiet during mating. Nothing told him she didn't want him however - her _n'dui'se_ was evident of her desire to mate, and after the kill it had ten-folded at his proximity; a sure sign of her need.

Rah'aun-cte trilled deeply, watching the pattern of raised flesh sprout along her backside. He peered down, watching himself appear slick between her legs, only to disappear with a tight-wet sound. Fucking an ooman had it's advantages it seemed - he could stare down and watch himself stretch her; watch her body loosen and tense around him in a way he'd never felt before. A female of his own would have his _th'syra_ for this; for gazing upon her this way.

As a burn of pleasure shot up his stomach he relished the feeling, shutting his eyes and letting his tusks splay. He slowed his pace, pulling her more-pliant hips in his palms, bringing her into his pushes so easily he missed a beat in his trills.

"_Auuh'leee...you do not speeaak. Speeeeek._", he growled softly; unable to break the habit of feeling _ch'hkt-a_ as he mated her.

She did not speak as he demanded; only grunted as he picked his rhythm back up to a hard pace. Her only drawback was not being loose enough to contain the whole of him - this lacking lead to a stark contrast of cold and hot against his sex; pleasurable and horrible.

Her body felt too enticing; too heated and confined - so much so that his reaction time had diminished greatly, almost so much that he'd barely caught her small wrist in his hand as she made to strike him. The cleavage of a black and thick shard of glass was staring him in the face - a few inches from the engorged skin above his upper teeth. She meant to stab him...harm him. "_Weapon!_?" A jolt of glee struck through his sex at the sight of her body twisted, shoulder bent and arm held high with the weapon aimed with such precision. She was ooman, but he could not deny how she delightfully surprised him - and this had not been the first time.

Quickly he withdrew from her; a heavy sigh escaping between her wet lips despite the snarl of her teeth. Rah'aun-cte chuckled softly, purring in time with his amusement and joy as he softly turn her on her back, spreading her legs quickly much to the whine she gave. He pressed both her hands to her side, each one in his own as he pressed inside her; watching her as her head slammed back on the bulky key-input board.

The softness of her inner thighs rubbed against the outside of his own as he resumed his mating - her flesh so much different than the tough hide he was naturally accustom too. Never had he mated in this position before; watching and studying her flat-tuskless face as it changed with each plunge of his sex.

It was challenging; reading her expressions as they shifted, deepened (even melded with each other) depending on the way he angled his hips. She was still ugly compared to a powerful Yautja female, but she had her...attributes. She had _dtai'kai'-dte_ buried deep under her thin skin; wrapped around her bones and suddenly he needed her to struggle harder.

"_Fight me like true female! Bite...demand! - scratch...Try and tear me apaarrt_!", he hissed and growled; savagely penetrating her into a uproar.

The muscles in her arms quaked; threatening to break free of his grasp as he slammed into her - her mouth gaping open, showing the mechanics of her orifice as her throat work back and forth. Auh'le screamed when he leaned to pluck the coat buttons loose with his tusks; exposing her bland breasts. They were similar enough to his own species; enough that he happily curled his tongue around one, pulling the dimpled nub with the roll tide of her small body.

Rah'aun-cte could feel the _dtai'kai'-dte_ in her; squirming under his grasp as his hips finally brushed against her own - at that barest of contact her petty arms broke from his claws. Her tiny - yet strong - ooman hands grasped the side of his face, slamming the tender flesh above his mouth into her forehead with one fast jerk.

He howled, ceasing his pace in a brief moment of pain until he slammed further inside her; hips molding with her own…furious with desire…yet…

…he paused then; confused at first at the feel of their lower bodies resting so closely.

Cocking his head to the side - he peered downwards, watching how all of him but one inch was submerged inside of her.

Auh'le's face looked torn; those large ooman eyes of hers lacking any real focus of light, hands weakly hooking fingers around his open tusks in disbelief. Even he knew this was…not right...

"_Auh'le_...?", he curled his lower tusks around her grasping fingers, nudging and hugging them until the life flooded back into her face. With the hint of life came a yell of anger from her tiny mouth; spitting curses at him as she yanked his face to her own by his tusks. The ooman had strength when she was angry...another promising aspect. Her angry words weren't entirely lost on him - he knew enough to begin a shallow purr to calm her.

"Do you'haa…realize…what your doi'ng?..! Fukk'ing destroy..ng…me..e…"

"_I will…be gentler.",_ he lapped at her neck soothingly with the side of his tongue, keeping up his robust purr as she tensed and panted under him. Hurt her – yes he'd enjoyed that, but disable her – he would not. During this moment of silence (both verbally and physically) he may have realized a few errors on his part. Between species it was inevitable that there was some miscommunication – yet he'd always assumed it would have been on her end…

His meager ministrations seemed to help however. Her muscles were softer under his prodding fingers and her face smoothed (a featured he'd come to see as passive). Soon his tongue bent under her jaw, absorbing the sheen of sweat along her skin. His mass was still inside her; hard and ready if she chose to change her mind – like he'd been accustom to with his own kind.

"Raun'st…fuuuhck...", he obeyed; slipping from her slowly and trilling as he did so. Once he felt the stark air sticking to him he plunged back inside her heat, growling at the suction her muscles had on him. "Hoh-holy'Fuu-u-uck!...no…I-I-..I…", he growled; pleased at her strangled words, "…shiiittt…" Trapping her neck between his tusks he bit her skin with his teeth, careful not to puncture too deep as he assailed her with precise thrusts. Her words turned into nothing but noises, both pleasing and angry as he made sure to keep half his length from her.

A terminal fell from the desk when he plucked her backside into his claws, craning her to ease her tension. The bulky 'computer' cracked loudly, jolting her against him, making him howl and her scream at the contact.

On his station he was known as a good mate; pleasing and always ready to hold back for the females before he allowed himself any form of release – yet this ooman was testing his prowess; making him salivate with the stress.

A bloodless part of him said she was ooman and there for not worth his concern (telling him to fill her without waiting for her satisfaction) but he _was_ blooded, and therefore he'd return any female (including ooman) the pleasure they gave him. Regardless of that she was worth the trouble. He'd still be in the prison if it weren't for her _n'dui'se_ and her _nain-de_ – with that reminder he growled deeply, pumping himself in with shallower thrusts; slower now. The change in tempo seemed to work. Auh'le shivered under him – her ooman hands raking at the bare skin around his neck, even tugging at one of his locks much to his pleasure.

"…no more thah-than this…plehse.." Her plushy hips rolled upwards, pressing her smooth belly along his netting; it wasn't a reaction he'd seen from other females, but there was no mistaking its significance. He'd found a way to elicited the ooman into orgasm and that bit of knowledge had his chest expanding further than it should have. Fucking an ooman had not been on his list of attractions when his ship was breaking the planets atmosphere...but with each noise and contraction around his sex she made - it was climbing it's way from the bottom to the very top.

A sob he'd only ever related to a dying ooman came from between her fleshy lips; muffled by something thick in her throat - yet the curl of her belly and the motions around his girth was enough to thrust a few more inches deeper. He indulged himself for the last few moments, curling his tongue around her throat as he filled her with the efforts of his sharp climax. Her tightened body allowed the pleasure a place to trap itself for longer than he was used to. Rah'aun-cte roared against her shoulder, spilling her blood as he clumsily hooked two teeth under her clavicle in his delirium.

Quickly he removed himself from her, exhaling gaping breaths as his panic of overstimulation fled.

Eventually his tongue slid back down his throat, resting where it always did as an ooman hand was spread along his chest; tiny fingers threading in his netting somberly while Auh'le Baw-ler lay like the corpses around them, breathing deeply yet moving little aside from that.

He trilled, purred and growled but she reacted little still.

The bland skin of her chest was red, even against the _thwei_ dripping between her breasts. Further down her body was the blotches of bruises and welts, more _thwei_ slicked her inner thighs and raw sex…

"_I have hurt you_…", he admitted while seeing the damage done to her. It was wrong to treat her as Yautja female…an unblooded mistake.

Auh'le stirred; arms twitching and eventually falling at her sides where they lay motionless. The only part of her moving was the unsteady rise and fall of her chest…that and the minor quiver of her lips. Rah'aun-cte stared…unsure of what to do or say to the ooman. He had harmed her, unintentionally – yet still his pride had him fleeing the room – stepping on the dead to find the lab where it all began.

Useless ooman trash filled the shelves in the sterile laboratory which he shoved and flung out the cabinets with a deafening roar of anger. Still half unclothed - he rummaged through drawers, kicked glass shards from his path and eventually…saw a familiar blackbox: his med-kit. How he had over looked it before – he didn't care – it was all he had to fix his mistake.

Rah'aun-cte paused, purring at his astounding luck even as sounds of clatter rang from the room he'd left Auh'le in. It was no question that his medical equipment would work on her…afterall, most of the fluids had been tested on ooman subjects. Despite their many differences their DNA had been significant in one key area: their immune system.

"_Perfect."_

The _n'dui'se_ covering his waning erection was coaxing him back into frenzy. Quickly he shucked his mask on – taking a deep mouth full of filtered air before taking to the ooman he'd betrayed.

"Fuck…gghshit!", her ooman words were stressed; coupled with a boundless array of trash and technological junk falling from the desk as she hobbled her way against the edge. It was a miraculous sight to see her moving…on two feet no less. Silently – hidden by his mask – he lifted one tusk in earnest. She was befitting enough to make a seasoned warrior click his tusks in curiosity. She – being so small – and him – being so large – made the sight of her wiping at her inner thighs furiously that much more satisfying. When her crossed ooman eyes landed on him he remember now that oomans didn't associate anger with mating as often as did his species…if she was angry then their was issue.

With an inaudible purr – enough to relax her – he propped his box aside her. Rah'aun-cte skated a claw over one rectangular display on the med-kits side – the sound of air hissing and a confirmation dot rounded before the top slid outwards. Sterilizing mist flooded out, exposing the array of grisly tool he'd forgo using on her. The one item she needed was beside the corrosive agent – it was a slim vile of bright blue liquid. In the limited light it glowed, shading everything within a foot in a soft blue glaze.

She would not take kindly to seeing the thick needle he'd be using on her – so he turned to the side, shoving the tip of the syringe into the vile and sucking up half the liquid before turning on her quickly.

Indeed Auh'le shriek - frightened and pained – as she had right to be, but he picked her up by the scruff of her neck regardless.

Once she was balanced on the desk her squirming seemed to cease, but he knew…that would change. When he exposed the syringe – dripping with the bright blue – she screamed again; a curdled sound that found it's way past the absorbers in his mask and pained his inner ears.

Before her fear could be allowed time to stew he shoved the thick needle under the skin of her thigh, injecting the mixture as quickly and efficiently as possible.

In seconds she was gagging, falling off the desk, and clawing at the bloody floor. Rah'aun-cte took a full step back, watching silently with the plunger still between his claws. As he'd been piloting his ship to Earth – the last thing he would have imagined was feeling pity for an ooman – yet here he was…the sight of her was churning his guts like that of a _da'nagara_.

Rah'aun-cte stared down as Auh'le lifted her head, staring up at him with wide and frightful eyes and crawling towards him – never stopping…not even when her fingers curled around the now cold head of her victim. She would not die…for that was as much as he knew – the rest? Well…he would just had to wait and see.

She jerked; muscles writhing under her flesh…like that of molten bubbling paste. A heinous sound came from between her teeth before her breath began to wheeze. When she got too close to grasping at his foot – Rah'aun-cte took another slow step back. She followed and he kept his distance as her crawling led them into the hallway. Her forearms and chin were splashed in chunky blood by the time something caused her to freeze. Again she gagged and turned on her side, hacking and sobbing simultaneously.

Suddenly she rested on a breath; lying with her head tucked against a bent arm and the other curled over her head like a mask. Rah'aun-cte took this moment to step around her, peering down with a turned head at the loose puddle she'd turned into. When a tap of his foot yielded nothing from her – he squatted with his arms resting on his knees. Her heart was still beating in his ears, but something caused him to trill nervously. Something…was not right.

With a shove he rolled her on her back. The arm that'd been curled over her head lolled and slapped on the floor beside her. Her lifeless eyes were open; staring like the dead at the ceiling…yet her heart still went on…

**_Thump…thud'ump…thump…thud'ump…_**

As expected she eventually moved – her eyes sluggishly turning in their sockets; rolling over to land on him…even in the dark she spotted him out like that of his own. Her speech – however- that was unexpected…

"Why…can I hear…your heart? Why…what the...?" Her eyes danced back and forth harshly; pupils dilating in panic. "What the fuck is wrong with my eyes?" Rah'aun-cte stood quickly, watching her fit her eyes between spread fingers; shoulders hunched and body tense. Still she continued to scream…and it was now he realized the wrong he may have done. "What'id you do to'my'yes?"

Perhaps he'd given her too much…

* * *

**-**and it is done! - well... just this chapter, there is plenty more filth to come. This wont be the first time Raunchy's bad...not at all, though Ollie may like it next time. As always let me know what you liked and didn't like - or just tell me whatever happened through your head as your reading (would love to get your feedback) and...more importantly thanks for reading.

**Yautja terms...**

_Ooman – slang for human_

_N'dui'se – musk/smell_

_Thwei - blood_

_Th'syra – skull_

_Ch'hkt-a – nervous energy_

_dtai'kai'-dte –fight_

_nain-de – hunt/chase_

_da'nagara - shortsword_


	6. he a friend of yours?

All aboard for chapter six! Changes are a brewin' for our friend Ms. Bauler...but not all are bad. Enjoy and I promise chapter seven will up sooner than this one was.

* * *

Hot coils wound and unwound between her ribs. Bitter bile painted the back of her throat minute after minute (threatening to spill into her waiting mouth) and still her vision was too crisp; too sharp…too perfect. The darkness was lucid – the smells were thick and the touch of the cold floor under her legs, arms and cheek burned as if she were sinking upon sheets of dry-ice. There was no space in her brain to wonder what he'd given her any longer - no thoughts but the ones of fear and distress. Alarms rung and tolled fore warningly in her ears – so loud they were that she winced.

An unnatural feeling was taking over her body and leaving nothing familiar or comforting behind – like that of a forest fire; making way for new sprigs of grass and saplings to spring forth from the soot. Her skin prickled like a trillion ants plucking her skin into their pinchers; chewing until her flesh rendered under the stress. Pebbles of moisture beaded along her forehead, upper lip, and back…even under the crease of her ass. If God were real he wouldn't allow this type of suffering…this tormet…this…hell.

When the roaring of black waves gave one momentous crash against her insides she fell into a stupor; one where her ears rung loudly and the only things she could see was the heat around her and the feel of the room encasing her. Bauler's body felt like a ship in the eye of the storm…still awaiting another bout of turmoil and havoc, and praying above all that escape wasn't asking for too much.

All too quickly – as though she couldn't find the time to be thankful that whatever had happened was at a recess – she spat out mouthfuls of saliva with an annoyed sneer. It seemed as though a button had been switched in her mouth and no matter how much she swallowed or how much she drooled – she couldn't stop salivating. A pool formed against her cheek and the floor quickly, leaving a string of spit to wiggle as she lifted herself up (almost forgetting she'd even been prone at all).

Bauler's body became hot again, another wave of that black tide reached into her lungs as she spat out more saliva across the floor. Expecting the eventually rise of fear didn't make it any less horrid. With the black wave crushing - her hair became heavy and an irrational fear of her eyes floating out of her skull struck her, causing a whimper and a string of drool to fall from her lips.

Holes of tiny pain plucked along one of her arms and back in contact with something hot, and already – without having to think about it – she knew Raunchy was the source of the perpetual heat. His body was sticking to her back, making her to realize how soaked with sweat her lab coat had truly become. Unable to care as to prior events (only about any semblance of comfort) - she leaned her head into him, enjoying, above all, the sound of his deep purrs as they tried to eased the tension in her chest. His claws raked gently down her arm, igniting a fair amount of discomfort against her overtly sensitive flesh, but also a distraction from the disorientation happening between her two lobes. Again his aim seemed to be only to sooth; ironic…

"_Aliive…_", his voice hissed against her sweat strung hair; a sound that echoed for minutes, even after it had any right to. Every sound – however small – rung loud and long.

Raunchy' breath escaped harshly, heating the back of her neck and at the same time sounding tired, but Bauler took a second to imagine what she'd sound like if she spoke back to him…instead of trying she swallowed a mouthful of spit and grimaced as the black wave hit her once more (it was to be expect).

This blackness; darkness, felt like a void of cold wind before a snow storm…but it wasn't familiar like a snow storm – the blackness was new…it was unknown, and it was bloodcurdling.

She mouthed words but nothing came out – yet her thoughts she could hear like her own voice. _When will it end...will it ever? _Slowly the feeling subsided again, but she was no fool – it would be back however many times…until…

A harsh creep struck her throat and she coughed; ripping herself from Raunchy's lax grip, only to fumble forward and crawl…as if to run away from the feeling altogether; a feeling that had struck with such fury she couldn't even scream. A strong fist curled around her ankle (Raunchy's) - but in her alarming fright she chucked it up something wholly worse than the ET; something worse than death and at that her vocals finally unwound and she screamed her peril until the world went black. The waves pounded her body into unconsciousness, and the last fleeting thought Bauler had was that she'd never wake up – even…hoping for it.

When light, reality, and sensation crept back into her limbs - filling her body until her eyes cracked open – there was a dead man…(or what had once been a dead man) lying in the corner before her. The pale blue denim (what little there was left unsoiled by the blood) told her he'd been a utility worker…no one special, but still dead and no longer alive – which made him special now.

Bauler lifted herself up slowly – all the while keeping her eyes on the headless corpse as if it may rise from the dead at any moment. Her body felt weightless; easy-like as she sat on her knees. The hollow despair and uncertainty was gone…vanished, as if it were only a bad dream – the kind you had as a child…the kind that seemed so real…

What had been…was forgotten for now – Bauler's only concern was where Raunchy was…or at least where the spear he'd given her was. Protection seemed the only thing she was concerned about – it wasn't for the dead, for the past, for anything really…all except survival. Her brain felt new, but there was no fear or animosity for the change…almost as if she couldn't remember a time she'd felt so at one with herself. No outside confusing thoughts disrupted what she wanted or needed. She needed to arm herself…for there be monsters…and Bauler had an overwhelming want to rip every one of them to shreds.

A sharp ding of a noise had her craning behind her and indeed…there Raunchy was, as if she knew even before the sound had ended. His towering shoulders were unleveled; bowed down as her fresh eyes watched him unsheathe a large curved-blade with a tight-coiled fist. A bloody skull lay at his feet, but she watched him place it on one of his bent knees and…his knife (one that caught a light that wasn't there) was roughly shoved under the bottom to gouge out the leftover brain and matter inside the cavity. All this waste slopped onto the floor with a bottomless noise that had her…

…nothing – she felt nothing.

Watching him pick off a blue swirl of vein from the top of the skull had done little more than bring her to her feet…for a closer look or...

"_Oomans…some of you give good fight. This one saw you lying under me. His need to save drew him close enough to wound me…_", Bauler's eyes lidded as he spoke, as if his rumbling clicks had changed in tempo (a good…charging change), "_…misplaced honor, but it gave him good fight…gave me good fight._"

A small speck of bright green started at his breast, just under his metal shoulder brace. The neon blood ran down in a thin trail, splitting into two currents by an abdominal muscle before she couldn't see further. The man must have had a stiletto knife, judging by how small the intrusion into his flesh seemed - it looked as though it'd been created by a needle…

Red-human-blood was still smeared in shiny streaks across the skull on his knee, but besides that and the hints of meat stuck between the corners of the eye sockets and grooves – it looked…stunning…

"Beautiful…", she repeated her worst thought, knowing somewhere that this comparison wasn't right…couldn't have been…

"_On my ship I will buff them…then…beautiful, yesss_.", his mask was tilted down – his hand cradling the skull that seemed so small in his grasp as something alien willed Bauler to peer around his crouched form. Behind him – to the side – was another skull. The structure around the near pristine bone was dipped further between the eyes than the other in Raunchy's hand, but it was just as enchanting as the other.

Before she could think to say the words they tumbled forth with desire for something else utterly violent, "Mine…"

"_Yourss…_", he pulled her trophy-skull from the floor into one hand. He then trilled, raising his own trophy in his other hand, gesturing to it as if to compare with hers, "_Mine_."

Without anything else she understood perfectly, even going as far as to 'humm' oddly in her throat at the essence he exuded while handling the shiny-wet and bloody prizes.

The skulls still in his hands – Raunchy let out a series of heavy clicks and purrs, none of which translated through her internal device but the translation was unnecessary…she knew…somehow…

"Rah'aun-cte…", speaking his name sent a ripple down her body – her voice almost guttural in its intensity. The vowels and clacks of her tongue came natural and fluent – the reaction Rah'aun-cte had was to leap up, locking his knees and leaving the skulls by his feet before clearing the distance with a thunderous roar.

The noise of his howl made her muscles loosen, preparing for the brawny hands that curled around her arm and thigh, shoving her back forcefully into the closet wall. With a heady moan – Bauler spread her legs, yanking them apart before he had the chance to.

She was effectively pinned to the wall; his hands seeming to aim at getting her as deeply squished into the wall as possible. Bauler's gaze drifted over his bare shoulder (past the spikes, the netting, and the dimpled skin) to lock eyes with the two red-glittering skulls – at the sight her pulse sky-rocketed. An odd guttural noise crept from her throat as he pulled her thigh in his hand, aiming her ready flesh before his gaze with his other hand squeezing her backwards by her ribs.

Her body was flooded with a warming-wet-need; squirming greedily, but he only looked. The pause between them turned into a drawn out moment of nothing – no touch, and no purrs…just…

Bauler looked down, growling now; teeth clenching as his masked face stared at her sex. His head cocked to one side; neck twisting in small increments as if to get a better look at her center…until he trilled and brought himself back up to face her.

"_What do you feel Auh'le? What do you crave now…? Do you hurt still?_", a clawed finger traced dangerously along the folds of her sex, eliciting a throaty groan down from some place in her stomach, where sound had never billowed from before.

He made a trill as if to confirm his suspicions without needing her words – her moan apparently told him everything. With care he laid her on her feet.

"_You_ _have my species adrenal hormone flooding your veins…coursing swifter than anything your body has known…right now..._" Still – as he spoke - the claw on her sex drug up along her outer lips to run up in an arch over her mound to her hip bone. One of his fingers touched the throbbing artery along her neck; tapping it with a rumble behind the mask. "_Right now it speeds under your skin…always will…Does this invigorate you as it does me Auh'le Baw-ler?_"

Before, she would have been flustered to the point of silence, but her words came out strong and without shame, "For you…for Rodheim's skull – it would be beautiful like the others without so much skin…so much better. The feeling…to tear someone apart… invigorating…yess."

"_The intensity you feel will dim…nothing so sweet can last forever, but you will be forever changed. For the better you are altered_." When the claws tracing her body left their pampering – his last touch was only one stray claw down the cheek bone. She bared her teeth and breathed a moan at the last contact.

"_On the ship we will mate again…you will enjoy it_." – and with that his heated aura left her colder than what the darkness had filled her with before. His delicious threat ricocheted inside her mind as her smoldering gaze lingered over him while he fixed the two skulls around his waist; hooking them like he did his mask before…before…

…with a hand fumbling between her legs she felt inside her slick walls in a mild moment of worry - the horror and utter pain he'd caused her surfacing in her memory briefly. Her motions inside and out only birthed a moan or two – no nicks of pain or raw edges where she'd torn. _So…his intention had been to heal after all…_

Bauler lingered – the worry ebbing into arousal as some part of her enjoyed the memory of him hounding her against the broken array along her desk; essentially destroying her body from the inside out. Even despite what a horror-show it had been - she teased her sex as she watched him tie the final slick-skull to his hip, remembering how she'd tried to find a way to get his mask back on before he fucked her with that nubile tongue of his. Her body urged her to find a release but he was showing signs of turning around – so she spat out another lump of spit before whipping off the blood and arousal from her fingers on her already muddled-beyond-help lab coat. When he fucked her again she knew she'd enjoy it…so now the moment was all about getting their revenge…and the reward on top of a reward at the end.

* * *

Rah'aun-cte gave Auh'le a glance - watching her through two different visuals – before plucking her _ki'cti-pa_ into his claws.

Her sex had been hot in his thermals…just as he'd expected, but from the want to mate – not from wounds like he'd assumed before. Inside his mask his tusks flared with excitement. Giving her the adrenal injection had panned out better for them both than he could have thought. She was reacting to the _n'dui'se_ he'd emitted while stroking her…just as he'd reacted to hers this whole time…and the violence in her eyes was the best result of promising he'd seen in her so far.

The small female ooman had so much potential that he almost wished his _mei'hswei_ were here to see the alien he'd urged into rut and the hunt. Her flat ooman face and the drab skin around her sinew was becoming exotic instead of strange…he'd have to explore it's expanse after they returned to his ship; heavy with skulls. For now he tossed her the _ki'cti-pa_, trilling as she caught it adroitly with just one hand. Her vision was better now…her reflexes? – well…he would enjoy seeing if they changed too.

Through the ports in his mask he watched her extend both ends of the _ki'cti-pa_ with a fluidity he'd never seen…even in Elders. Her small fingers and flexible tendons had sprung and curved to create a perfect setting for which the _ki'cti-pa_ landed in; a sight that only seemed as elegant as any huntress when he recalled it.

_Perfect…_

Perhaps her being ooman – fitted with Yautja hormones – had even more advantages than he could know Time would show him what the injection had truly changed within her…and that thought excited him once again. Auh'le Baw-ler was turning out to be as interesting as his first hunt, his first kill, and his first mating…all respectable comparisons for anything as lowly as what he once only considered prey.

With a curl of his claws his _dah'kte_ engaged; cutting into the air with a comforting screech by his thigh.

Rah'aun-cte gestured to the brighter hallway with the tilt of his head; ringed-locks flitting over others at the gesture. Auh'le followed obediently as he slapped a palm over the screen at his wrist, feeling his body elude from sight, melding with the surroundings. Behind him Auh'le continued to follow, seeing through his deception as he expected. She knew what to look for already to stake him out amongst the environment.

After a commanding trill she stepped past his shimmering form, leading him down to their destination – even in the more ill-lit areas that she still found trouble waning through. What she could not see he could. With his mask illuminating it all for him he clicked to her the direction of doors and ooman furnishings until her fingers found the right archway; a flight of stairs.

Her ooman eyes saw nothing. The darkness turned into a void with each step it seemed - even he found each of his masks settings limited the further down they went. He'd had to curl a hand around her neck; guide her down like some lame pet until she asked the shape of the symbol above his head.

With the strange symbol lacking any meaning or way for him to properly describe it (without feeling like pup at least) – he decided to take a more enjoyable route to answer her question. Auh'le appeared blind; eyes wide but not seeing as he pulled her to him by the nape of her skinny neck. On the exposed skin below her collar bone he traced a sharp curve into her skin – ignoring the slight scent of fear she radiated - and pressed with fascination as he watch a thin red line show up seconds later.

Her mangled noise of understanding was followed by her shaky ooman voice, "This is the dorm-ward…hanger is off this level past the water mains if we keep to the side hallways. Everyone left will be there, readying to leave the compound. Chaotic."

"_Fail-safe devices?_", he questioned her as he drug her roughly out the doors into a bright but hectically destroyed corridor.

"Yes. But where they are or if they'd use them I don't know." Her weaponless arm was lifted to shield her vision - her new…superior…vision - from the dramatic change in lighting. "Destroying this place would have to be well warranted…they've put a lot of money into this place…into you."

Rah'aun-cte understood the necessities of her speech; the parts that he needed…he hoped. Once aboard the ship he'd get his own translator, then he wouldn't have to spend so much time working the meaning behind her slow-loud words.

The burn of battle began enhancing his mood; filling him with vigor as two faint heat signatures appeared on his right. They were a good distance away, but bright even from this angle and they seemed to be positioning weapons in their arms as they bowed around corners and down hallways.

Auh'le ventured further ahead, keeping to the walls like any surviving creature would with the _ki'cti-pa_ extended on one side, aiming parallel to the wall.

"_Two armed oomans…one-hundred and three noks ahead_. _I will be neearrr_…"

Without little more from him Auh'le went forth – breathing out the fleshy ports above her mouth in an act to remain quiet; a part of her that he lingered a second too long observing. The more he hunted with her the more he found her features…enthralling.

Once again he allowed his tusks to slip upwards…she was _good_ ooman…and even with the heat of _dtai'kai'-dte_ flooding his veins – he imagined the act of mating with her once again (like a young-blood after his first mating attempt) – recalling how her smaller body bent under his every whim and the trap the orifice between her legs was for his sex. _A good trappings…_

Rah'aun-cte purred discreetly as he kept to the darker portions of the rooms she crept through. Another ooman appeared in his signatures; growing from a faint yellow to a bright orange…closer and closer this new ooman came, directly down the hallway Auh'le was hugging against.

With a high-pitched trill he warned her before clicking a tusk on his display to observe her vitals. Auh'le's body exuded heat, but more importantly her heart rate remained steady; body tensed in a common battle pose – _hiju_ - but not one of the many he'd shown her…

Instincts – he knew before the _dtai'kai'-dte_ began; before he could be surprised at the way her body lurched from the wall…how within almost a matter of seconds the sharp end her _ki'cti-pa_ was thrust upwards into the confused ooman male. The serration cut easily into the soft-dimpled flesh under the ooman's chin; crunching – still with little resistance – past the partition of _th'syra_ and into his brain.

It was satisfying to see his little ooman-female arched into such a position; elbows held tight to her body with her arms up around the spear, as _thwei_ dribbled down her weapon over her limps. By the time they boarded his ship she'd be covered head to toe in a vast array of _thwei_…maybe this was another ooman trait – to want to feel the warmth of the _thwei_ they'd spilled…

….this idea was as intriguing as she was…making his organ swell at the idea of rutting her still covered in her kill's _thwei_.

The male-ooman - currently bent at the back and neck with her _ki'cti-pa_ buried under his chin - made little noise. His _thei-de_ was quick and clean; figuratively speaking. Under the weight of the dying-dead ooman her still weaker body shook and shucked away from the heavy body. The ooman-male slid from her, slapped against the wall to her right and then collapsed to the floor - her _ki'cti-pa_ still stuck skillfully from inside the corpse's skull.

The _th'syra_ was ruined, but by the way her teeth were bared and her naked foot lifted to press into the red-flesh of his throat to yank out her _ki'cti-pa_ – it seemed she knew that the initial attack had cracked the lower portion of the skull; a lesson he saw rendering in her large ooman-eyes.

"Just one inch to the left and it'd be fine…you know."

"_Next time_.", he assured her as his netting cackled briefly while stepping through the growing pile of _thwei_. The two other oomans seemed farther away than before, as if spooked, despite how quiet she'd managed to kill the male-ooman. Once again he looked back at her, watching as she compressed her _ki'cti-pa_ before dragging her feet along the floor to scrape off the excess _thwei_. He had time to praise her now - but with a click of his tusks – he determined he could do the praising all at once…later…aboard the ship. The thought again had his _thwei_ flooding to his sex; mildly annoyed he flared his mandibles with a huffing grumble.

Acting as a young-blood only ruined his sense of honor and pride - the two orange/red forms in his sights were his port; his distraction. Rah'aun-cte would have both their _th'syra _and that – at the very least – would take his mind from the rut…the rut with a tight…warm…ooman…

* * *

Bauler felt the blood coagulate between her toes, squishing with just the right step like warm jelly. Her body buzzed with the iron-rich blood scent and the brief heady smell coming from Rah'aun-cte – something in her brain told her what it was, but still she ignored it. The fabric of her coat glued itself to her skin by the various bodily fluids (sweat, blood…and indeed alien seed) – this sensation took away any arousal from his musk or her kill…that and the faint memory of being ripped open by his sex; the pain…

The air rippled besides her – Rah'aun-cte moving from the shadows; away from her. She followed…not questioning the want for something other than safety driving her after him.

Despite the mental and physical changes that birthed every-so-often – she felt little anxiety…as if everything happening wasn't taking anything away from what she once was…only making her better; stronger. Her vision was so crisp that the hair-line fractures along the edge of the ceiling seemed to yell at her. The way her thoughts and actions processed made her feel superior to her own species; a sense of separation from other human's seemed to grow by the hour…especially after she'd yanked her spear from the man's skull.

The sound of the skull cracking at first had triggered a sense of disappointment; of loss – but now…despite the loss of a trophy…she found herself recalling the sound and the feel of that single moment. The sound of death made her feel as high as any speed Rodheim could have supplied them with…without any of the biting paranoia, but the addiction was the same. Bauler – for the first time – wanted nothing more than to hunt and kill. "Hunt…and kill…", she repeated with a hushed grunt, spitting out the excess of saliva her mouth just wouldn't stop procuring.

* * *

Rah'aun-cte had only slowed enough to keep the expanse between them at a minimum – her heart was slower now; harder to pick up from a sizable distance. The alpha in him relished her being close enough to watch him shred these ooman-males into bits, but at the same time, wanted her far enough to be safely hidden from their large eyes.

Both the oomans had been half crouched; guns held close to their bodies, but pointed and ready for action. Their eyes were sliding around in their sockets, catching each corner and each area where sound signaled or an abnormality shown. These were soldiers…acted like soldiers and looked like soldiers.

Their armor was weak; thin, but their bodies were positioned like that of ready young-bloods…

It was easy to maneuver around them – only one of them seemed to hesitate; eyes moving in where he once was, maybe catching the light of his netting or the sound of the air as it rushed around him. In Rah'aun-cte's thermals he could see Auh'le in a corner stall…behind counters of shelves and fake Earth-vegetation – she was crouched on the soles of her feet with the _ki'cti-pa_ extended over her thighs.

In an arrogant and amusing tact, Rah'aun-cte trilled; clicking his tusks teasingly behind the oomans, watching one of them freeze and the other act.

"That's it!", it screamed, turning to where it must have thought it'd heard him trill – the angle was off when the ooman-male shot a charger down one dim hallway (about two _noks_ off). Rah'aun-cte clucked loudly in his throat, avoiding another charged shot by crouching under the discharge with a swipe of his knees and shoulders. The heat of the burst – so close and invigorating – had him instantly howling and clacking, deciding that for the _setg'in_-ooman he'd end it swiftly. The _s'yuit-de_-ooman he'd toy with a bit longer – for nothing more than enjoyment.

Silently – with the aggressive ooman-male cocking his weapon for a third shot – Rah'aun-cte pulled his arm back and shoved his _dah'kte_ into the ooman's chest while thrusting his body in turn. Dark-red blood splattered in audible pangs on the floor – the grunting screech from the ooman was blissful past the suppressors in his mask…and the smell of urine from the other _s'yuit-de_-ooman made Rah'aun-cte groan pleasantly.

With mandibles flared with victory – he lifted the ooman from the imbedded blades in his chest; hearing with great pleasure as the sharp cleavage of his blades sliced a finger-width deeper up his body with the combination of his weight and gravity.

In this moment, Rah'aun-cte pressed a tusk to the display of his mask, disabling his camouflage; exposing himself to the stock-still ooman, as it watched it's companion choke on it's own _thwei_; dying in short spasms.

A pitiful noise came from the _s'yuit-de_-ooman; one that not even Auh'le had made when he'd first tried rutting with her…or even when he had. The ooman-male should have been humiliated…but something told him that it didn't feel much but terror.

He bowed his head to the _s'yuit-de_-ooman – his locks falling and sounding thickly around his shoulders - the _setg'in_-ooman still impaled on his _dah'kte_. With a tense thrust of his arm the _setg'in_-ooman was cast to the floor, torn from his serrated blades with a heavy sound and an equally heavy grunt.

Rah'aun-cte clacked mockingly, flicking his _thwei_ covered _dah'kte_ at the _s'yuit-de_-ooman, splattering it's face with it's companions _thwei_ in an act of challenge.

The _s'yuit-de_ -ooman did nothing, but that was to be expected…and enjoyed. He relished in his opponents fear, and his lack of challenge was diffused by the meager one it's companion gave him. There was no time to be disappointed, not when he could hear Auh'le heart racing and smell her _n'dui'se_ permeating through his filters. She was enjoying the show and he would mate her good…

He circled the _s'yuit-de_ -ooman, watching it without his visual settings, wanting to see this one's _thwei_ leak from his body with his naked sight. After spanning a full circle around the _s'yuit-de_ -ooman it seemed it's senses kicked in, but like the rest of him…they were slow…

A strangled noise uttered from the _s'yuit-de_-ooman's throat as it's hands fumbled with the mechanics of it's gun. Rah'aun-cte paused before him, watching through the ports of his mask in amusement as the ooman tried relentlessly to stop his hands from shaking. The smell of fear was as thick as Auh'le's _n'dui'se_, and just as sweet – so sweet was it all that he failed to pick up another vital sign as he slashed at the _s'yuit-de_ -ooman with a feral howl of victory. His _dah'kte_ cut through the ooman's belly like _pyode_ metal, allowing an opening for it's bowls to upend from their cage and spill down it's thighs and legs. The ooman barely managed to fall to his knees before Auh'le screamed and Rah'aun-cte caught the familiar scent of his own species male _n'dui'se_…but as he whipped his masked face to the source it was too late.

A naked _mei'hswei_ was dragging Auh'le by the thighs from her cover, drooling over her exposed sex in as deep a frenzy as Rah'aun-cte himself was in the moment he'd caught a whiff of her _n'dui'se_.

In a deafening-territorial-male sound – Rah'aun-cte bellowed out a cry of rage, chest exposed and mandibles flared, crushing against the inside of his mask at the sight of his clan _mei'hswei_ pulling Auh'le's tarnished thighs apart...with his bare enflamed mandibles spread, uncaring even as Rah'aun-cte howled his name before sprinting for his Auh'le Bawe-ler.

"_Mi-thei'de!_"

* * *

And here we had a friend of Rah'aun-cte's...lured by the smells of a hormonal female (funny right?). Seems as though Bauler may have been on to something when she imagined the compound housing more of Rah'aun-cte's kind.

Thank you all for the reviews for the last chapter, sorry this one took so long to bang out (pun!ha!) but the next one is already in the works and I think I'll enjoy writing more action and sexin's in it than I did in this one. As always, please show me your critique of this chapter (good or bad) and more importantly - hope you enjoyed it! Anonymous reviews are accepted.

**Yautja terms**

_mei'hswei- brother_

_dah'kte- wristblades_

_n'dui'se- musk, scent_

_pyode-soft_

_s'yuit-de- coward_

_thwei-blood_

_setg'in- quick_

_nok- unit of measurement (13inch)_

_ki'cti-pa- combistick_

_th'syra- skull_

_thei'de- death_

_dtai'kai'-dte- fight_

_hiju- common fighting stance_


	7. cant we all just get along?

Apologies for the long delay inbetween this update and the last. College is out until the fall, so between work and play we will get back on a good schedule. In the meantime, enjoy this one, and the next one will be up before you know it. As always, there is warnings of sexual content, language, and above all...wonderful violence (well..maybe 'above all' implies to the sex as well...and the language...).

Do not own Predator, or Aliens.

* * *

Mi-thei'de was lost without his mask, but Auh'le was his and Rah'aun-cte took care of what was his – whether that be ooman or the like. His clan _mei'hswei_ – known for the bounty of scars over his hide – was slower than the rest…but lucky. He took too long burying his tusks between Auh'le's legs; two seconds too long he took inhaling her _n'dui'se_; savoring it just for the sheer sake of it, oblivious to the presence of anyone else but the delicious ooman female…just as Rah'aun-cte had done the moment he'd gotten wind of her.

In spite of the rage that swelled (an anger only comparable to a territorial male) he did not hold his _mei'hswei_ responsible – her _n'dui'se_ was strong…and he was blameless…but that didn't stop Rah'aun-cte from slamming his armored shin straight into Mi'thei-de's crown once he rounded on the distracted Yautja; smacking him flat on his back, propelling him from Auh'le's sex with a roar. His _mei'hswei_ grunted, blinking as if the blow had temporarily blinded him.

Auh'le's blood painted the tips of his tusks…beckoning up another wave of rage as Rah'aun-cte stalked around his clan _mei'hswei_, trilling his warning. There was little else to do aside from watch him as Auh'le bound to her feet; _ki'cti-pa_ at the ready and a curse falling from her mouth, despite the sweat and heat painting her face in some sort of ooman humiliation.

Mi-thei'de's tusks stretched, as if in utter astonishment and of course…pain. Rah'aun-cte had not held back – he'd dealt him a blow he'd deal to a bad-blood. He wouldn't stand for a male such a Mi-thei'de to mate her…or anyone else…but especially not one as prone to abandonment as he was well known for. If given the chance his _mei'hswei_ would surly kill his ooman female; probably with little shame as well.

As Mi-thei'de's head tilted against the ground – coming around for the startling blow to his crest – Rah'aun-cte lowered a foot over his neck, placing half his weight under the softer bend under his chin. A gurgling growl ran up under the tough sole of his foot as Mi-thei'de struggled with the sudden refusal of ready flesh.

Rah'aun-cte was stronger than him, but Mi-thei'de's bearer had status above Rah'aun-cte's, and that let him aboard the hunt; the hunt that seemed to land them both in captivity. Here though; here the rules had changed. Their status now simplified as the strongest who lead, and that was surly Rah'aun-cte.

As Rah'aun-cte's foot pressed deeper into his _mei'hswei-de_ throat – he remained alert to more of his clan. Who knew how many the oomans managed to capture, especially if they had the resources to contain the two of them.

"_Mi-thei'de…the ooman's n'dui'se is hoax. She does not wish to mate you…_", he growled out the words, seeing the dilemma of two males and one mask already and only seeing one outcome. The heated glaze in Mi-thei'de's eyes told Rah'aun-cte that no amount of pep-talk would keep him from locking into the unwilling Auh'le if given the chance…not without his mask that is; not without a barrier against her scent. To a blooded Yautja, saying no to such a sweet smell was preposterous; a sign of sterility.

Still with his foot on his _mei'hswei-de_ neck – he crouched down to him, watching his signatures through his mask for one final time before unplugging one…then both nozzles at the side of his mask reluctanly; discharging clean warm air for that which was heavy and cold… and sweet. Immediately Auh'le's _n'dui'se_ filled his mouth, causing his saliva glands to over produce, but Rah'aun-cte had to be disciplined and honorable before Mi-thei'de…or Auh'le may end up mating both of them; an act that would kill her surly and dishonor the both of them if ever they returned to the clan.

Past the clouding _n'dui'se_ – Mi-thei'de seemed to understand what was happening; tucking his enflamed mandibles against his inner mouth just before Rah'aun-cte lowered his marked-mask over his _mei'hswei-de_ face, locking it in; hearing the pressurized lock start filtering out the tainted air.

While Mi-thei'de was left panting on the floor, sucking in mouthfuls of clean filtered air – Rah'aun-cte was left to rise; mating _n'dui'se_ soaking into the porous tissue along the inner skin of his mandibles like a bottle of _c'nlip_.

His sex swelled, ready to conceive sucklings immediately with a willing female…but decades more of discipline helped him keep his ground where Mi-thei'de could not – but knowing how pleasurable mating with the ooman was did not help him keep his position.

Auh'le had scrambled up on top the desk she'd been hiding behind before; hands wrapped tightly around her _ki'cti-pa_, aiming directly at the both of them, warning the both of them with words that held both nervousness and a meager promise of harm. She knew what no mask meant, and what might happen if Rah'aun-cte decided to mate her before his _mei'hswei_ …but when Rah'aun-cte turned to her – tusks tucked tightly – he saw more confused interest than he did fear. Swiftly her gaze turned to Mi-thei'de; stirring on the floor and pawing at the mask, as if trying to quicken the process of filtering out the taste of her.

"_Stand down Auh'le…Mi-thei'de is no longer a threat,"_ with tusks scraping tightly together Rah'aun-cte turned to see Mi-thei'de rising to a crouched form – his _n'dui'se_ was vanishing…or maybe his was just overpowered by Auh'le's, _"…you are no threat Mi-thei'de…are you now?_" He trilled warningly, almost daring for the younger _mei'hswei_ to prove him wrong.

There was a long pause where Mi-thei'de seemed to ignore him for Auh'le's ready stand on the counter, but eventually he did tilt his head to the side; agreeing and rising to his full height, just half a _nok_ shorter than Rah'aun-cte.

There was no brief moment of silence between the two of them. Immediately Mi-thei'de was at his side, trilling in question as to the situation. The younger _mei'hswei_ must have been deeper into the hunt than Rah'aun-cte had been – the smaller Yautja was still talking in the code of the hunt; a combination of scents and low decibel trills and clicks.

"_Oomans…they evolved better since the last time the Elder was here. Nothing is as he describe._", Rah'aun-cte spoke; tusks still tight and eyes starting to gloss – in turn his speech was clipped – the _n'dui'se_ was making everything slow.

"_Fuck these oomans. No manner of infantile technology will hold me. Even their strong glass would have broken over time. Pathetic oomans!_" Mi-thei'de's body turned, body fully taut and near aggressive towards the defensive Auh'le – ready to roar a dominant position over her.

Rah'aun-cte smacked him against the side of his head; shoving him off a few steps with a small growl. Me-thei'de steadied quickly; head hung low and body regaining it's stiffness after a second or so. His _mei'hswei_ was not the most careful of mind, or open, but most of all he was ungrateful…and this was what made Rah'aun-cte's crest flare red in anger.

"_Be silent Mi-thei'de! You owe your freedom to the both of us – the ooman female…even more._", suddenly he felt ill; head pounding and body cramping. The need to mate was overwhelmingly strong…

"_Did you see traces of others?_", he asked as his bare eyes found the relaxing form of Auh'le stepping down from the desk – her scent kicking up as she did so, muttering her form of ooman curses at the both of them. It would be easy – he thought – to simply flip her over, hike her up and shove himself inside her womb until he was sated.

"_When the hatch opened I followed the oomans n'dui'se, thinking they had imprisoned our females. I did not bother with looking around…though I did cave in a herd of ooman soldiers on my way." _Loudly – Mi'thei'de struck his chest, as his hunt call uttered under the mask. _"The kill fueled me…I still think taking the Lou-dte Kale together until she bleeds is good idea. You can go first._"

There was that moment of silence. His _mei'hswei_ did not know she could understand them, amusing, since Mi-thei'de scent seemed confused when Auh'le boldly shoved her _ki'cti-pa_ towards his unarmored gut, growling deeply in her throat. Just the sight of her displaying such a bold act of defiance against one so much larger than her was enough to make his own mating _n'dui'se_ leak over his shoulders.

"_She has a translator, Mi-thie'de. I would watch your talk…_", he warned, watching the strong position of Auh'le's body under the ripped and frayed coat.

Mi-thie'de seemed to check her vitals over with Rah'aun-cte's settings; skimming over the readings and suddenly…he laughed. The sharp, screeching and jostled noise called out to any oomans in the vicinity unintentionally, but it also showed that suddenly the smaller Yautja knew why Auh'le's proud attitude seemed odd for the average prey ooman.

"_Adrenaline? Really mei'hswei? You always were so bold when fixing your mistakes.",_ a pause and another curdled laugh, _"Tell me…was she so succulent around your cock that you horde her from me like this?_"

His _mei'hswei_ was testing his resilience. With the constant need to mate and the jostling – Rah'aun-cte found his words holding more malice than he'd meant, "_I said be silent. How do you think I escaped, mei'hswei? The urge to mate is powerful…even enough to shatter a nok of glass._", Rah'aun-cte spat out his title like a piece of cartilage, clearly unamused by the offer Mi-thei'de presented. Mating her now was a tempting idea, but he refused to allow being so sated by her body that he would allow his _mei'hswei_ to do the same.

"_You managed to break that glass._", it was uttered as a statement (barely believed).

Rah'aun-cte ignored his _mei'hswei_ – he needed to seek out Mi-thei'de's mask…and perhaps Auh'le would know where best to look. When he turned to her, she was sneering with closed lips to the other male, staring outright into the eye ports as if she could sear him with her gaze alone; cut through the layers of _d'lex_ and carve his mandibles off.

"_Auh'le…_", at the call of her name and the lingering trill of his tone – she turned sharply to him, eyeing only momentarily before shifting her smaller feet towards him. Her growing proximity was only increasing his urge to violently mate her. With one last step he struck her back from him with a open palm; hissing as her heat began to tickle his side. "_Back!_", he barked; eyes thrilled and shamed as his still outstretched clawed fingers curled with want.

"_Where are the other cages?_"

Her eyes flickered from him to Mi-thei'de (who was slowly growing closer to her, more than likely studying her through the read-outs in the mask), before she swallowed a thickness down that fragile slope of neck, "I didn't know for sure there were more of you…There could be sub'levels…but I wouldn't know where they were and the level of security…", her head turned and dropped; eyes searching around aimlessly, "…even if we found it we wouldn't have the passcodes…or proper retina patterns."

He could find, severe, and bring the needed eyes and fingers with them if that were the case, but the plan seemed riddled with holes – it was illogical, and finding the ship seemed more promising. Though every problem solved still left him with a painful erection and a clogged mind. Offering to mate once more seemed easier than riding the need out and the chance of her being more willing than the last time seemed greater now, but suddenly the idea of courting vanished as he watched Mi-thei'de bring an unhindered hand to the back of Auh'le's head; playing with the dirty but thin strands of her hair with his mask lowering as if to sniff past the filters.

For another time Rah'aun-cte found his bodily urges masking his species enhanced thought process. He had staked his claim on Auh'le, verbally in front of Mi-thei'de…and yet his _'mei'hswei'_ still touched her; forcing his hand.

Bubbling with raw sexual need and the urge to show his dominance – Rah'aun-cte grasped a stunned Auh'le with one bone crushing fist, throwing her to the ground on her belly from the grabbing Mi-thei'de as she readied a scream in her throat from his harsh treatment. With saliva slipping off his tusks he howled deeply in the younger Yautja's masked-face, enjoying the sight of him withdrawing enough to show his submission.

Instantly he was ripping around, and pouncing upon her; encompassing her pinned body and fumblingly heaving her hips into the air, shoving her bloodied and _n'dui'se_ soaked coat over her rear before – in plain view of a still (yet enthralled) Mi-thei'de – pushed the cloth over his sex aside and locked himself within the bloody and slick flesh of 'his' female.

He'd taken her so quickly that her belated words meant little now that he was already thrusting himself against her tight walls. Questions of 'what he was doing' and 'why' were lost on him as his claws sunk into the pliable skin of her hips, grinding her against him ruthlessly as he rutted her into the floor.

With a warning growl, he smacked the small hand grasping around her _ki'cti-pa_ – the hand arched open, dropping the weapon as she hissed in turn with his increased thrusts. Weapons bared the last time had spurred him on, but while rutting before Mi-thei'de he was to be dominate…and her show of it (no matter how arousing) was unwanted. Auh'le needed to submit to him.

Her body – just as he'd remembered – was hot and tight, like an unimaginably delicate vice of sucking comfort. Inside her he found a release flooding into his groin quickly. If anything, he knew that he could grant his Auh'le a quick mating. Something about her body was different; more resilient against his onslaught of frantic slaps against her rear. The heat around him grew near painful. Her body was still immensely taut, but she stretched around him as if her body was only accommodating him deep enough inside for her muscles to then clamp around his sex with each plunge.

Mi-thei'de uttered something under his own panting breaths – his _n'dui'se_ was growing as he watched Rah'aun-cte mate furiously with the ooman female. The opposing smell was another factor in the delicacy that was Auh'le's sex.

A point was being made, but also a needed exorcise of the excess hormones flooding his body, like an infectious disease over its enervated host.

Laying flat on the floor, with her rear tilting up into a hard angle – Auh'le made those grunts with each disappearance of his sex; ones that were both results of his harsh treatment and hopefully some mild form of pleasure, solidifying that rock hard pleasure of mating that's he'd found no were else but inside an ooman.

His goal had not been to punish her as he made his point, never could he be so insolent with a female of his own species. He desired for her to feel satisfaction as well (a need engrained in him as much as the hunt and the need to sire)...but as things continued - Rah'aun-cte realized that mutual pleasure may not be the case this time. Auh'le's clammy little hips were pale and red; a stark contrast as he slapped her backside coarsely into his abdomen with each motion.

Just as Rah'aun-cte felt the tight tension welling up his body, near choking in his throat as he growled – he realized that it had been a mistake to just take her as if he were punishing Mi-thei'de with this vulgar treatment on the very female that'd freed him - it was dishonorable...

…but the release of the piled up hormones was enough for his eye sight to flicker as the shock of warmth saturated his body. His bellow of climax was so loud that he almost missed the whimper of his ooman underneath him, as her small body quivered around his girth in a possible signal of her own release and the shuddering breath of his own name from her plastered body. The sudden locking of strain around his flesh was something he'd almost forgotten about, and its contractions only made the last few movements inside her that much more bitter sweet.

As if the silence crashed down on him like that of an Elder's reprimand - Rah'aun-cte growled shamefully at himself. His thick sex came out of her with a wet noise; covered in blood and their combined fluids. The tangy aroma no longer held the same sway over him as before, but if given the choice of finding his ship or mating her again without repercussion...he'd have chosen mating without a seconds thought.

"_You truly have mated the ooman before…and still breathing she is._", Mi-thei'de's baffled and strained voice was all that cut through the white noise of his own huffing breaths and the gasping ones of Auh'le as her arms tried to bend against the floor. With feigned disinterest - Rah'aun-cte lifted Auh'le's body up under her stomach, easing her to her knees where he left her to rise upon his own feet once again. His sex lay half limp/half stiff beside his thigh before he covered himself as he watched the ooman female do the same...but slowly and with a certain air of perplexity. Her eyes looked clouded and wide; mouth parted and one cheek red from being pushed into the floor so firmly. He would not apologize to her in front of another male, but he would once upon the ship. Once they were alone he'd explain himself...

"_She could take us in turn...she could take me noowww..._", Mi-thei'de hissed with arousal.

She did not deserve such harsh treatment...

* * *

Bauler watched as the room stopped spinning - the sides of her vision blurred and throbbing as the blood rushed to her limbs and head all at once. The sharp orgasm was so quick and dense that she still saw blotches when her eyes closed.

Rah'aun-cte seemed to stare stubbornly at the other male (the bad one); mandibles spreading and clicking in a way that made the device in her ear tickle across her temples thickly.

The rough sex had started and finished so quickly and unexpectedly that it still seemed like only five minutes ago that she was telling him how fruitless searching for another mask was. It had been foolish to think his curt words weren't masking something like this. Why she thought now he'd be able to control himself, she didn't know, but...it hadn't been entirely unpleasant. It only occurred to her half way through being fucked into the floor that he'd been staking his claim after the other one had tugged at her hair. Honestly...Bauler had barely felt the little nicks of pulled hairs at her scalp before she'd been thrown to the ground. Despite the brutality of it...something about it caused a sudden throb of satisfaction between her legs - it may have been cause of the adrenal shot...or perhaps insanity was unavoidable at this point.

Either way she took her time getting to her feet - the fluids running down her inner thighs suddenly making her feel soiled and used. A shower or bath was something improbable at this time, but it didn't keep her from hoping he had some form of that luxury aboard the ship, as she wiped the excess of semen and blood with the ends of her stolen lab coat - burning this article of clothing, eventually, would be a joy.

"_Only I touch her, I mate her...you understand this._"

Rah'aun-cte spoke of her as if she were his object to fill at any time - something that would have enraged her if she wasn't smart enough to understand his angle. An acrid and musky smell filled her nostrils as the two trilled in rushed tones at each other. He was keeping other (more gauche) hands off her...and even though the flesh between her legs throbbed painfully in time with her heart beat, as she bent to pick up her spear, she was grateful enough to not bring it up again, besides...the pain of his roughness was no were near as terrible as it'd been the first time.

Easily she withdrew the sharp ends of her spear with only a small jolt of recoil shaking her elbow; locking her knees with a grit of teeth as she stared at the two vastly different males.

As long as this bad one didn't put her through what Rah'aun-cte did in the beginning then she'd bare whatever else came her way with a closed-mouth. He seemed younger, more naïve and quarrelsome than Rah'aun-cte. Bauler didn't bother logging his name – the sight of him alone fueled some sort of involuntary dislike that she'd never felt in such potency for Rah'aun-cte, even when he'd tore her open…even when he'd changed her…even now that she appeared as low as his opportune fuck toy...

Only when the sniveling noises behind the bad one's mask ceased and Rah'aun-cte's chest deflated - did she lift up a shaky arm, whistling in a shudder with numb lips before pointing down the second stretch of open stairs. The rectangular sign above had at one point read 'Living Sector 2'...but a thick sheen of blood had somehow stained up along most of the print.

"Th-hiss way..." She lead, ignoring the pain between her legs and the intense gazes of both aliens at her back, waiting for their padding foot falls to echo behind her as she walked off the jelly that'd settled in her knees. Bauler ignored another pang of worry as a fleeting thought crossed her mind while her eyes glanced sharply at he bloody sign: that black leech-like creature in the jar - the one Rh'aun-cte had crushed in his fist. Why she thought of the ugly alien, she couldn't say...but...something had splattered blood ten feet into the air...somehow...

...or maybe there was more of Rah'aun-cte's kind prowling the halls, and that very notion was what made her stomach churn. Her body couldn't take much more of such robust male attention. Living a life without sex seemed less difficult now that her body felt looser than it had before these series of encounters began.

Explosive little drops of blood marked underneath the sign (patters of horizontal drips; neat and ordered) beside her bare feet as she stepped over them and down the middle flight of five open stairs to the powerless lower level of the dorms.

A few clicks and two pairs of heavy feet stomping down the stairs behind her was the only semblance of comfort as the darkness ease up her body with each step like a rising black tide. The darkness brought on a chill of cold, antarctic air.

A light bulb sitting in a crack fluorescent tube buzzed with a sporadic light a few yards away, but besides that faint light there was nothing guiding her body into the open space of the common room. Even with the recent memory of walking past this very room not twelve hours...or had it been - no - it must have been much longer that she'd left her own cramped dorm to brace her night shift. It never felt like night or day really, even with the near constant dim skies outside - she never thought time could loose track as quickly as it had now.

None of the clocks were working anymore, and even they themselves would be useless if time was so obscure that a span of even two days seemed possible. So much seemed to have happened in such quick succession that things felt new and old all at once. The permeating body heat and alien clicks murmuring just inches above her scalp were as familiar and unfamiliar as an old friend. Even Bauler's new crisp eyesight was useless while she felt along the wall into a deeper darkness.

"Rah'aun-cte...describe to me the signs."

There was silence, but those curt clacks of his bony tusks beside her neck started abruptly, just as her neck had begun to crane backwards (as if she'd be able to find him in the dark...) - a clawed hand on her shoulder guided her soon after from the wall, leading her blindly into an openness that felt light enough to float in.

"_Right..._", His gurgling vocals and sharp claws seemed to encompass her body - a line and a connecting arch scratched into the taut skin under her collar bone like before; hot breath flooding down the back of her scalp. Three other symbols followed soon after, along with an unsure tracing under her throat that felt so good - Bauler didn't have the mind to concentrate on its meaning.

Gently she was turned a step to the left. "_Left..._", another line, same arch, same three symbols after it and another similar drawing into her skin that finally had things clicking.

"Male and Female dorms...", which meant the flicking light to her far left was part of the hallway that lead to the bathrooms.

Another set of clips and trills further away reminded her that it was three of them now, and with a thin-lipped frown she removed herself from the close proximity of Rah'aun-cte - the cold creeping under the thin coat immediately with the stark removal of such an immense and alien body heat.

"Left.", she repeated his own description, standing stark still until an expected – but still sudden - palm pressed into the small of her back, guiding her in the proper direction as her arms braced at a slight angle before her...just incase he'd grown a sense of humor in the past few minutes and felt pushing her into a wall was a fun reprieve from the monotony all of a sudden.

There was an abrupt stop against the tips of her fingers; grainy textured paint marking the walls as her fingers withdrew before they were bent back by the urging pace of Rah'aun-cte behind her. Another flat hand found the start of the now familiar hallway. Flyers folded and crinkled against the leveled rush of her fingers, some un-sticking from the wall to then flutter on the floor. Secretly and a bit insanely – Bauler hoped one of those curfew flyers were part of the many that slid off the walls, but just that one reminiscence was enough to tug at her stomach; remind her of how different this point in time was compared to the one where the only thing that bugged her were the human resource posters and the thin coffee.

"There will be a vid screen…", it was possible though that he didn't know what that looked like, "…its about forty inches long, glossy, black and green…" A hot gust of moist breath sunk into the back of her head, making the strands of hair beside her neck warm, like little noodles hot from the heater.

"Take a right past it, and then right again…" Sooner than was expected her shoulder was squeezed, body twisting to the right. Sounds were so loud, just the noises of their three sets of footsteps echoed noisily in her ears, even more so than the heavy suckling breath billowing against her scalp.

The vents purred like a sleeping lion, but not heat wafted over her as they passed. Water reverberated like struck triangles in pipes around the sides of her feet, and all around her it seemed the walls were moaning with sounds of electrical wires, fat ice-rats scurrying around on polluted grey feet, and even the lone echo of what could only be a worker left behind. The sounds united were what had the sweat of fear gathering over her eyebrows and upper lip, even as the cool of the outside terrain began to seep into the compound.

Merit to this blindness induced aural keenness – it was her, Bauler, that was the first to hear that mind shattering sound; a sound that resembled a nail being drug down a chalk board…but so much worse…

As if the nails were replaced with claws and the chalkboard with something even dryer than pure slate – the sound gnawed like a cancer in the ear where her translator lay. The bass – yet high pitched – roar of a suddenly enraged Rah'aun-cte cut the sound instantly, followed by a weaker echo of the same anger just a yard or so behind her.

Heat coated her head once again from the exhale of alien breath, but that disgusting sound rang again, drawing out longer and longer until it felt as though it was inside her mind, squishing her brain against her skull from the inside out.

Sweaty fingers hindered her from releasing the ends of her spear; fear made it harder when something bony and slick slammed against her cheek, as heavy as a punch.

The darkness alone – even with genuine monsters at her side – was just as frightful as it had been as a child, but this…(with the screeching and hiss of some other vicious creature) was a level of fear that should have been unnatural. Stinging pain littered the side of her face, but whatever had struck her didn't feel so close anymore.

The dreadful roar of the bad one barked out in pain – a sound of flesh rending followed before and after…along with the splash of spilt blood (from who or what - Bauler didn't know)

Commotion, confusion, and shock were the three base emotions as Bauler was thrust by a familiar hand face first into the jutting edge of a wall; nose bouncing back from the snap of cartilage over sturdy bone in a burst of light and pain.

That ear piercing hiss – a combined sound of a victorious hawk and its dying prey – was abruptly cut off by a swift displacement of air beside her shoulder, so close that the coats material pressed against her skin.

A sudden sting – wet and festering – broke through the skin above her hip as the sound of metal was being ripped out of hard, but gummy material. Again there was that hiss, but it was weak and fading. The relief of that dying sound didn't manifest itself though. The pain consuming in past her dermal layer of skin was the only thought she wiped hard at the burn; wrists flexing shakily in such a fitful hurry.

The wetness was hot, and burning, cutting into the thin flesh of her fingers when they slipped through a viscous hole in the coat, proceeding to then slip horridly into the growing hole in her side. Bauler felt the spongy texture of her own muscles. It was at the contact of that hidden part of her body that she screamed; a clogged and abrupt noise that rivaled the hissing shriek of earlier.

Not even the familiar heavy hands on her body - ripping the already frayed coat clean off her body, swiping down her naked, bloody, oozing side - could bring her any comfort in safety when the warm wet continued to dissolve whatever it touched – namely her, and judging by the hiss of breath beside her…it was coating Rah'aun-cte as well.

Something dying echoed near her feet, rasping with the last few moments of life. It must have been huge to require both of them to take it down…and perhaps even with the terrifying pain and threat of having a hole in her body, she should be thankful she at least didn't have to see what it was that'd attacked them.

Words bubbled out her mouth, but they were nonsense, just panicked words that had little meaning in and of themselves even if she's been speaking them properly.

In fact – it was almost funny how her fingers could go a joint and a half deep inside…but the pain wasn't as bad as she'd thought…in fact…as time went by…the pain was fading; slowly but steadily disappearing…if anything it was the sweat dripping down her temples that was the biggest nuisance.

"_Be still._", Rah'aun-cte's hiss re-solidified that fear that had started ebbing away with the pain. He sounded…uncalm – not worried but not calm…not calm.

The bad one must have been closer, his own clipped words seemed to touch her face, "_She's done for. Let her go…_"

The panic grew. Sourness dribbled along the back of her tongue, as if the fear was rubbing against the taste buds that'd lay dormant until now; until they'd attracted the certain type of fear that only came with hearing someone (alien or not) speaking so blandly about your certain death as the sound of your own flesh sizzling grew in volume.

…but whether it be by the grace of god or luck…or even just the returning gesture of survival from a uncouth humanoid – the sound disappeared, the pain ceased completely, and a slippery hot appendage swirled and filled the hole in her side…much like (disgusting in the comparison) Rah'aun-cte's tongue had filled her sex before. The pleasure was the relief – the appreciation was the care it expressed.

Pained wheezes, even as the tongue cleaned out the acid, was like a mother's soft nails against her arms when she'd been little. It must have hurt him to do such a thing, but with every stroke of his tongue it felt like a silky icicle was slipping along the burned flesh.

The bad one grunted, but that sound along with his disapproving words were lost as Bauler gave into the heaviness of her eyelids, thinking that now it was alright to just…relax…relax…

"_Unworth the trouble_ _mei'hswei…unworthy the ache…unworthy."_

As if the sudden lack of fear and pain, along with the sudden warmth of affection (whether imagined because of insanity, or endorphins, or adrenaline…or none of which), Bauler sank against the flyer-filled wall, feeling only the tongue slip from her side, the papers come down with her against her sticky back as her ass found the floor. Never really did she lose consciousness…more like when a physician puts you under. She could hear…but her eyes remained closed and her mind stuffed with cotton.

_"Worthy.", _his guttural drawl making her lips twitch, wanting to smile.

_"Dying by hard meat would make her…worthy, now she is worthless…you, mei'hswei, have made her worthless."_

_"You Mi-thei'de, lack honor to know the difference between a worthy death and being denied that worthy death."_

Silence, then rustling, feet moving around her…something heavy being drug away.

_"You, Rah'aun-cte, ooman pauk-de, are not well."_

A brush on her scalp – two strands lifting from her cuticle in pointed fingers that were still unfamiliar with her framework…

Dejected, but uncaring he hissed above her_, "…maybe not."_

* * *

Feedback is loved and appreciated. Problems, praises or just bashing is fine as well. Thank you all for staying tuned and reading what I have to write. It's fun on its own but when people enjoy the things oozing out of your brain, it becomes magical. :)

Until next time!

**Yautja terms**

_mei'hswei - brother_

_pauk-de – fucker, fucking_

_n'dui'se – mating musk_

_ki'cti-pa - combistick_

_c'nlip - alcohol_

_nok – unit of measurement about 13 inches_

_d'lex – very strong metal_


End file.
